


wrong space wrong time

by fannishcodex



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Backstory, Big Sisters, Brother-Sister Relationships, Childhood Trauma, Dark Past, Darkfic, Dysfunctional Family, Estrangement, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Harm to Children, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, Little Brothers, Parent-Child Relationship, Psychological Trauma, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Some Ensemble, Speculation, Time Travel, Trauma, Violence, War, platonic Moon & Toffee, pretty much a post-season 2 AU, started just before season 2 finale, tangled family tree, this is a complete AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9943331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishcodex/pseuds/fannishcodex
Summary: AU. Toffee’s life has been too freakin’ weird. UPDATE: part vi





	1. i-ii

**Author's Note:**

> Written post-"Just Friends" and after seeing all the episodes before that one; written before season 2 finale. Just starting to go wild with the theories here before the season finale slays me on Monday. Seriously, when I say AU, I really do mean AU. Made up a name and personality for Eclipsa's monster love for purposes of the story being told here. Same for other OC's that will show up.
> 
> I own nothing related to Star Vs. the Forces of Evil.

 i.

Toward the end, sometimes Eclipsa and her love communicated through his intermediary—a magical construct, that could enact his will, speak his voice. It even bore a little of his features—but was largely distorted and fortified (no tail, no snout, too tall, four eyes when there should only be two, the colors were only half right, it had some hair when in reality there was none). It had taken him more time and training to summon this construct than what Eclipsa had done to conjure any of hers from the royal wand; and his still did not equal hers in power. The Mewman queen had respected it, what he could do without a magically superior lineage and royal privilege to fall back on.

Pema had told her more about his intermediary, more than he had shared with anyone else. (And this became one of the things they kept between each other. Both thought it most useful to let others wonder about this apparent third party—even misinterpret.)

And in the end, Eclipsa had left escorted by this intermediary, to meet with Pema one final time, at his clan’s temple. To stay.

She would not return to her Mewman king, or their daughter. Not after feeling a familiar weakness and nausea in the morning, and knowing who was not responsible, and who was.

…

As expected, Eclipsa sticks out at the temple. Her formal Mewman dress is modified to the temple’s mountain terrain, but not entirely dropped. She will wear sometimes wear a few items more familiar to a monster, gifts from her love—jewelry, scarves, roughly sewn gloves without the fingers. But she is Mewman and Royal and will not forsake her entire heritage. She is literally the only Mewman at the mountain temple (soon to be the only full-blooded Mewman there).

Pema is protective of her, and the baby she carries, and will allow no serious insult or harm. Tension is tolerated though. Tension is to be expected.

…

The elders remember catching Eclipsa spying on them with her all-seeing eye; she had only wanted to see Pema, but still she had witnessed them training Pema and the other youths in old arts, old techniques of seeing, summoning.

Any uproar that caused had died down by now. But the elders still remembered, and many regarded Eclipsa either with irritation, wry amusement, or distaste.

( _Distrust_.)

…

Though strange—no one at the temple will pretend Pema’s love is not strange, just like no one at the Mewman castle could pretend otherwise—Eclipsa is largely respectful, and is an ally at the temple, to the monsters. (They even slowly warm to her.) Eclipsa’s union with Pema was not formed only out of affection and unplanned parenthood; in the world both were born into, that would have been largely impossible. Over the course of many years, their goals have long since aligned. Eclipsa is on her love’s side, and that is all.

So Eclipsa offers her magic, her skill, all she can to assist her love’s kind.

Pema has made his case, and his people came to agree: they needed all the help they could get.

…

For now, Eclipsa has kept the royal wand and the spell book.

Her daughter had not yet been old enough to inherit when Eclipsa had left.

(She has kept the wand and _Glossayrck_.) 

…

Eclipsa and her love sometimes talk about names for the baby, but nothing really comes of it. To be honest, the other things surrounding pregnancy and impending parenthood occupy their time, along with everything else (supply runs, defenses against the Butterfly kingdom, evading the Butterfly kingdom, finding and securing food—just life, just life in general).

…

The Mewman king she first wed—arranged. Loveless marriage. Over the years increasingly vitriol. Obviously in the end, outright hatred.

He won’t be missed.

Their daughter had seen them argue many times. (Eclipsa and the king had made some effort to hide those arguments or move them somewhere else—but all too often, the effort was futile.)

Sometimes Eclipsa insanely wonders if her daughter at least feels some relief over the absence of parental arguments. She knows it’s a mostly foolish thought.

She is…there is turmoil over her, her only daughter, her Comet. Eclipsa still doesn’t even know if she’ll hand the wand and the spell book ( _Glossayrck_ ) over right when she turns fourteen.

She knows this is the least of her worries.

Contrary to what most outsiders would probably think, Eclipsa’s love had never pressured her to leave. They had talked of it before, a mutual discussion; but once Eclipsa’s daughter had been born, all discussion of that was dropped, and they had even stopped seeing each other for a time, trying to separate again.

That had been their relationship for so long—on and off again; on before Eclipsa’s arranged marriage, off when she finally did marry her betrothed; on again after Eclipsa’s second year of marriage; off again once she was pregnant, on again when her daughter had turned five. Then, she could not…she just could not stand being apart any longer, nor could he…and the idea of running off together only returned as something to do once Comet was old enough. They had come to think they could live like this until then, seeking each other’s company in the shadows, where no one else could find them, and it would just be the two of them…

When Eclipsa learned she was pregnant with a child not fathered by her husband ( _half-Mewman, half-monster_ ), the instinct to run had ignited. It felt like a need, not a desire. Pema had agreed.

…

Eclipsa sometimes sends her daughter letters. A charm on them lets her know they reach Comet’s hands, but she never knows if her daughter opens them.

Sometimes Eclipsa uses the spying spell to see her daughter. Even then, she doesn’t see the letters, if they’re opened or not.

Seeing her daughter through the all seeing eye spell makes Eclipsa ache in new ways. Sometimes she reaches out to touch, but always draws back.

(First Pema, now her daughter—this spell always for what she loved but could not have. Not both of them, anyway.)

…

More and more, Eclipsa questioned her love for her firstborn. Perfect mothers didn’t exist, but she wasn’t even a good one.

She cared for Comet, and thinking of her hurt…but if given the choice, she would not change her decision. She would not return.

If she had loved her daughter enough, she would go back, wouldn’t she? (She would take her too, wouldn’t she?)

But she loved Pema. She already loved the child they were going to have together. The thought of leaving him again, of leaving them—she couldn’t.

She loved them more, didn’t she?

And it was all wrapped up in her own individuality, wasn’t it? She had chosen Pema; she did not choose Comet’s father.

She could not agree with Mewni’s current trajectory, she could not turn a blind eye to the monsters anymore. Her current efforts to help weren't working; she needed to try something else. Personal circumstances—the birth of her second child—demanded changes.

It was her decision. _Hers_.

So did Eclipsa not love herself more, in the end?

It was something to own, not lie about, no matter how cruel a truth it may be.

…

In the morning, Eclipsa is ill again. More than that, she’s bleeding.

_About time_ —it’s her first thought. She had expected this weeks ago. Her second child was late this time, not slightly early like her first. (By Mewman time anyway. Eclipsa had learned monster pregnancies could vary, just as much as their people could.)

Eclipsa is relatively amused by her love; he’s trying to stay composed, and he’s doing a fair job of it, but she can still feel the slight nervous tremble in his claws as he grabs and carries her to the midwife. This is his first time, while it is her second, and Eclipsa finds something bittersweet and marvelous about that.

While it being her second time brings some familiarity and a measure of calm—and she does this with someone she loves this time, which helps relieve anxiety—it does not necessarily bring complete ease. Not at all.

(Her firstborn daughter is always in the back of her mind.)

…

The midwives and other attending monsters are unnerved by the Mewman queen remaining entirely silent during delivery, no roar or growl or screech, not a sound leaving her, though sweat matted her dark hair and pain clearly lined her face. (They had only a few herbs to help with delivery, current scarcity had not been remedied in time.)

Pema is there, and isn’t that surprised or unnerved, knowing it is like his love, though he does not know the reason.

(He and Eclipsa have not shared every single thing with each other. Eclipsa has not shared the extent of her mother’s mantra for emotional concealment and composure.)

…

Eclipsa finally makes a sound, a delighted cry when the baby is out. Though she reminds herself of what some of the healers had told her before during her pregnancy, that not all monsters come out crying like Mewmans, Eclipsa is still a little startled by the child’s quiet. But she remembers, remembers, especially when noticing how, though the others (minus Pema) had shown some clear shock at her own silence, they now act as if nothing is amiss with the baby’s quiet, examining him with a routine calm. Most of the attending monsters are experienced with this, and Eclipsa has met them before; there are some new ones, and these Eclipsa has met too, and she recognizes one exhaling under her breath in a tone of awe and relief, “He looks like us!”

_He_ is the baby, a boy, her first son, as Pema had breathed in her ear, voice thick with elation. (Were he wholly Mewman, already his right to the wand and reign would be forfeit. Those went to the Queen alone. Mewman kings were only accepted as the primary ruler once they were widowed and if the oldest princess was still too young—or deserted, as Eclipsa had done to hers.)

“He has hair though,” another apprentice midwife whispers, and Eclipsa finally notices that he does. Her son is covered in scales, gray like his father’s stripes—but only that color, none of Pema’s dark rusted red scales that alternate with the gray stripes. There is no pattern on their son’s scales, simply a uniform gray. The boy doesn’t have his father’s horns; he has a tail, claws, a snout like him, already fully lined with small fangs; when his eyes open, they are bright yellow like Pema’s. But he has hair like her, dark hair, short strands of it that are at first slicked wet against his skull; but after a midwife dries him off some, they start to curl a little wildly.

It is Pema that passes the baby to Eclipsa, and she holds him, and all she can think is, _How adorable_.

“Toffee,” Eclipsa exhales, her son’s tail curling around her wrist. “He looks like a Toffee to me.” (And to her royal Mewman sensibility, it felt right.)

Pema nuzzles the side of her face, runs a claw gently through the boy’s hair, and agrees. Both ignore the dead silence from the rest of the midwives and attending monsters, all seized by the same thought: _the Mewman queen is so **strange**_.

…

But she is Mewman. _Mewman_. Mewman royalty. A Butterfly. Later they realize how the name she had given her son was more in line with her heritage. That name sticks out among the monsters, just like Eclipsa does.

(At least the boy looks more like them.)

…

Pema loves Eclipsa, and after long indecision over what to call their child, Eclipsa spoke that name with such conviction; and Pema still had no strong ideas for what to name their son—so, first come, first serve. And his love had sounded so adamant about it. And the boy was half-Mewman. But he took after his monster side so rather completely in appearance—his name, at least, could be more Mewman, with respect to his mixed heritage.

…

With scavenged pudding in hand, Eclipsa knocks on the spellbook, and presents Toffee to Glossayrck.

“Good Butterfly name,” is all Glossayrck says in between bites, though his eyes don’t leave Toffee, who’s been staring at him wide-eyed since he first appeared, tail softly wagging. The infant finally breaks off his staring once Glossayrck burps, and Toffee hides his face in Eclipsa’s shoulder at the sudden sound, curling tight against her.

 

ii.

 

Toffee’s eyes sting with humiliation as his older cousin begins to cut his hair. His arms are straight, claws clenching and twisting the fabric covering his knees.

“Toff,” his cousin entreats, slight whine in her voice. His cousin Arabella is fifteen and pushy and her voice can still get kinda nasally, but she has been around far longer on Mewni, way more than his four years (at least that’s how he sees it). “Toff, after this you’ll look more…normal, y’know—”

It makes his face grow more angry red hot, getting that reminder. Toffee can pass among the monsters at the temple, he looks a lot like the part-reptilian ones, his father’s clan—but he has his mother’s dark hair, and none of them have hair. If they have anything on their heads, they have horns, protruding spines, feathers—never hair. (To monsters outside of the village, Toffee can almost pass off his hair as feathers—until they get a closer look.)

The boy knows his hair rubs a lot of the grown-ups the wrong way. His cousin Arabella’s not the first to say he’d look better without it. And even when some of the other kids regard it with more fascination and curiosity and ask to touch it and never tease him about it…deep down, he doesn’t like that either. (Sometimes he’ll let them, either with a forced smile or pretending not to care, or grumpily or acting really impatient so they’ll get it over with faster; sometimes he just won’t.)

Toffee thinks it stupid, unfair—there _were_ monsters with fur, hair. There were all sorts of monsters! Just…not that many reptilian ones had fur or hair. Actually, he hadn’t seen or heard of anyone else like that. Just him. Only one at the temple. Only _half_ -monster, half- _Mewman_ at the temple. (The boy had heard some rumors, gossip of other half-breeds like him, other monster-Mewman hybrids, a minority scattered across the land. But often he would hear the accompanying remark that they had never heard of one mothered by the highest-ranking Mewman, a Butterfly herself; and then his stomach would clench too uncomfortably, and he would turn away and find something else to do.)

Toffee was pretty sure everyone at the temple knowing his mixed heritage made his hair more of an issue than it had to be. If they didn’t know, there wouldn’t be so much fuss. (Toffee felt he had clear proof of this; outsider monsters who realized he had hair, though sometimes weirded out, did not make as much of a fuss, probably figured it was due to a scaled monster and a furred monster mixing; only some of them started to stare more and even regard him with some distaste when they learned about his parents.)

“—Toff, I wasn’t kidding, you’ll get sweets after this, I promise, I stole some with the others on a raid last week—”

Toffee’s claws released the vice grip they had on his knees, arms moving up to cross over his chest. He remained hunched over, still pouting, but now more over the prospect of reluctantly being won over entirely by sweets. (And maybe it would be easier, if all his hair was cut off, and he looked more like everyone else…)

“— _don’t_ move, I don’t want to cut you by accident.”

The boy grumbled under his breath, but tried to stay still. Then he started to watch with some fascination and curiosity as he saw cut snips of his dark hair begin to fall on his shoulders, down his chest, on his clothes.

His hair, which had hung down to his shoulders when not held back into a ponytail, was now more level with the top of his snout. It was a new and interesting sight. Toffee’s discomfort and humiliation was almost entirely forgotten until his cousin swore in alarm, and he felt some really _weird_ movement and pushing from his head.

“What the hell just happened?” Arabella said, and Toffee stared at his hair—back to hanging down to his shoulders.

“Dunno, you tell me,” he snapped, glaring at her. (Feeling angry with her felt better than focusing on how he was starting to get freaked out). “Did my hair just—?”

“Grow back in record time? Yeah,” his cousin said, still sounding in shock.

Then she took a breath, grabbed and wound the bulk of his hair as if she was going to wrap it back into its ponytail. The older monster tugged it back, hard enough that it made Toffee yelp and his eyes squeeze shut. Then his cousin cut more quickly and sloppily.

When Toffee glanced back through one eye, he saw his cousin holding a solid chunk of his hair sliced off; it looked like it could be made into a doll for one of their new baby cousins. He noticed his neck was clear of hair again—his eyes widened and his heart pounded when he _saw_ dark hair slide and curl back down, moving like it was some other monster’s fur-covered appendage.

“Seriously, what in the actual hell…” His cousin swore, and tried cutting again, and again—for with each attempt, his hair freakishly grew back repeatedly. Her scissors snapped so much, Toffee felt the sound was drilled into his head now. He was grateful she avoided pulling hard on his hair again. The boy felt too nervous to question her stubborn attempts in what was clearly a losing battle; she looked angry, and kinda even a little possessed now. Toffee just stared at the growing amount of cut dark hair that was starting to surround them, and thought there was enough to make a blanket now.

Still dark hair hung to his shoulders, growing back each time.

When the scissors didn’t snap again, Toffee sighed, relieved. That turned to alarm when he looked back and found his dad had grabbed Arabella’s wrist and looked _very_ mad.

Arabella was frozen in shock, and looking kinda petrified. Though she was really pushy, Toffee hoped dad wouldn’t kill her, because right now, it _really_ looked like he wanted to.

His cousin finally found her voice, and Toffee felt like taking back his recent thoughts. “He’s doing a weird Mewman magic thing—!”

“ _You’re_ cutting his hair without mine or Eclipsa’s consent,” his father said, voice too calm and quiet to be good.

Dad didn’t kill Arabella, he just made her go away and said he’d talk to her parents later.

“Did you see, I—?” Toffee asked, almost too nervous to bring it up, but unable to resist. When it was just the two of them, his father seemed more like the good kind of calm, warmly ruffling his now-utterly-freakish hair.

“Yes, I saw enough.”

“Is Arabella right, is it—?”

“I would think so, actually. I have not seen that happen with other monsters, and it did look like magic; you do have your mother’s hair, after all. But we’ll see what she thinks.”

Toffee scowled. _Haven’t seen it with other monsters. Of course. It was always him. **Why** was it always him?_

His father then swung him up so suddenly it made him laugh. Then Pema placed Toffee around his shoulders, and began to walk him to the main temple building.

“I like your mother’s hair,” his father said. “I like that you inherited it from her.”

Toffee didn’t respond, just laid his head on top of his father’s, right in between his horns.

…

Eclipsa and Glossayrck agreed with dad; the rapid magical hair growth was likely from his royal Mewman, Butterfly side.

“If, deep down, you were truly all right with your hair being cut, it probably would’ve let itself be cut,” Eclipsa later told Toffee in private, when she was putting him to bed.

Toffee’s brow burrowed. “I was starting to be okay with it.”

“Did you really?”

Toffee started to fidget under his mother’s gaze. She was really good at looking like she was viewing him as if he were glass.

His mother then hummed a scrap of a song he didn’t recognize, leaned over and kissed him good night, and said his father wished the same, but he was still at a meeting with the elders.

(And before he could really fall asleep, for a worried, panicked second, he wondered if his dad’s meeting with the elders was about his freakish Mewman hair magic thing, remembering his cousin’s earlier alarm.)

…

Toffee’s first instinct when he sees his cousin again is to run, given that she had quite literally last time plucked him up and carried him away to try to cut his hair.

But Arabella just gives him the sweets she promised, and Toffee is really glad Dad hadn’t killed her.

 


	2. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Toffee’s life has been too freakin’ weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of this is kinda experimental, just me writing for my own interest and to explore things, and see if I can get this out before the season 2 finale, explore ways of expressing these ideas and see if I can do it in a matter of days...so, just. Yeah, things start to escalate quickly now.

iii.

 

It feels like it’s been ages since his cousin Arabella tried to cut his hair, and it just magically refused. Toffee’s six now, but it feels like ages. He hasn’t seen Arabella for a really long time, not since she left to fight farther abroad with another troop. Sometimes he’ll hear about her, from her parents and other family and villagers. She’s still alive, so that’s something.

 

Toffee already wishes he could go back. Right to when she tried cutting his stupid hair. Just right around then.

 

(To when his father was alive.)

 

…

 

Eclipsa has not been the same since that Mewman assault on the temple took Dad away. Not entirely.

 

Toffee doesn’t know why it still surprises and disappoints him; not like he’s been the same since either. And it’s not like she’s completely different. She’s just…off. Ever since then, she’s been off.

 

…

 

(It wasn’t the first Mewman attack on the temple Toffee’s witnessed, and it hasn’t been the last. It’s forever seared into his mind as one of the worst though. How could it not, given what it took from him.)

 

…

 

Eclipsa will bury herself in work and go days without speaking to or seeing Toffee, and sometimes he hates her for this. (His father’s family and other temple inhabitants look after him, but it’s not the same.)

 

And he wonders if this is how his half-sister feels about their mother. He knows she exists, even if Eclipsa never tells him anything about her.

 

He fears he’ll end up the same as her—left behind. He’s heard how Eclipsa left the ruling Mewman king for his father…maybe he was the only one she really loved. With him gone…maybe she has no reason left to stay.

 

Toffee feels like someone drowning pulled to shore whenever Eclipsa comes back to him, and so far she always does. He tries to tell himself his mother will not abandon him, like she did with her firstborn.

 

…

 

Toffee has eavesdropped, before mom or anyone else can chase him away.

 

He wants to know what work or research takes her away for days on end.

 

He’s heard scraps of this, rumors: his mother and her all-seeing eye spell, but trying to change it into a new form. See something else, see the future. Scrying.

 

It’s not enough; he wants more answers. But Eclipsa locks herself in workrooms and takes her company with other grown-ups. When she’s with him, she doesn’t answer his questions about the work that involves magical research.

 

Toffee breaks into his mother’s small shelf, the one where she stores pudding for Glossayrck.

 

“Old man, what’s my mother doing?” Toffee asks immediately, holding out the pudding to Glossayrck.

 

Glossayrck is a mystery. All Toffee really knows about him is that he is ancient and has known mother since she was little; that he taught her and still works with her. That he likes pudding, and lives in Eclipsa’s spell book.

 

Toffee has not talked with Glossayrck as much as Eclipsa has. He’s only seen the old man a handful of times. It may have been Butterfly tradition for their children to be educated in magic by Glossayrck, but Toffee has never really had lessons with him. Sometimes Glossayrck did a sorta lecture with him, whenever Eclipsa left him with the old man for that specific purpose. But mostly any magic he learned was from Eclipsa himself.

 

She hasn’t been doing a lot of that lately either.

 

Glossayrck takes only a spoonful of the pudding Toffee offers. “Eclipsa has already asked that I not say anything. And did it more politely than you, I might add.”

 

Toffee snarls, snatching the pudding and spoon away, curling in on himself and beginning to angrily swirl the spoon around inside it, faster and faster, what was he even doing—the thought of throwing it in Glossayrck’s face flashes across his mind—

 

“Have you held the wand again? You used it the month after your father died, hadn’t you?” Glossayrck says this calmly, as if he were only asking about the status of Toffee’s studies.

 

It makes the boy freeze and his heart pound.

 

_—the mechanized armor slammed Eclipsa hard enough to make her drop her wand, and Toffee flinched to see it happen. For a terrified second he stayed behind cover; then disobeyed his mother and darted for her wand. She had to have it back._

_Something crackled out of the sky, hitting the ground—stone splintered, Toffee slipped, the ground turning sideways, his world flipping, he saw the wand slide, the mechanized armor stumble—heard his mother swear and his mother **never** swore—_

_Toffee woke up with a cough, aching all over. He wiped at his mouth, it felt wet, sticky. His vision was blurry, his head spun; but eventually it focused, and he looked up, up, to the temple, to where he had just been, where debris still trickled down from a new jagged cut in the rock face._

_The boy flinched, hugging himself as a cold gust of wind blasted past. Where was mom, where was—_

****

**_Wand_ ** _, he remembered. Toffee climbed to his feet—crumbled back down when he realized how much that **hurt** —then crawled to a nearby rock to help himself up, and squeezed his eyes shut and grit his fangs how that still hurt even with the rock as support._

_Toffee looked around. The rock ledge he had fallen to was just covered in debris, and he saw nothing from where he leaned against the rock. Pushing off the stone with a wince, Toffee began to walk further out._

_When he saw the mechanized armor, Toffee stumbled back, frightened—then caught himself when he realized the armor was unmoving, dim, dented, and looked broken._

_And then he saw the wand was just beyond it._

_Toffee scrambled over the armor to Eclipsa’s wand. He grabbed it, preparing to pull it out of the debris where it stuck out from—but then mother’s wand changed, growing shorter, freeing itself from the debris. Toffee stumbled back against the mechanized armor when there was no longer resistance from the debris he had been anticipating._

_The boy stared in alarm at the wand—what had happened, what had he done? His mother’s wand was supposed to look like an umbrella; now it looked way too short, it was shaped differently—_

_“ **There**! It’s the w—”_

_“ **Shut up**!”_

_Toffee whirled around to find more Mewman knights crawling over the armor, one hitting another that had been pointing at him and the wand._

_Heart jumping up in his throat, Toffee ran with the wand, clutched tight in his claws._

_Instinctively the boy skidded to a halt when one knight landed in front of him, he must’ve jumped from the armor’s great height to block him—_

_Toffee darted to the side, he had to get away, he had to find mom—_

_He felt a vice grip on his tail, then was yanked back and sent flying—he screamed when he hit rough, cutting rock, and fell back to the ground with a strangled cry. Toffee had been knocked on his stomach, felt the wand pressing painfully into his chest._

_Hearing the knights approach, Toffee felt his terror spike and almost overwhelm the pain in his battered body. The boy raised himself to all fours—only to vomit, spit up something sticky and metallic-testing, his eyes squeezed shut. He opened one eye, his vision blurry. Finally it focused more, and he spotted the wand beneath him. Toffee reached out with one trembling claw, while the other shakily continued to support the rest of his body. His claw scrambled for the wand, frantic, panicked, before finally finding purchase and clutching it tight._

_He looked again, to find the knights—one was closing in. Body burning, Toffee shot up, to run again; but this knight had caught him too, plucking him up by his neck **how was his hand so**_ **big** _—_

_Toffee had one eye squeezed shut, the other open—he saw one large gloved hand around his throat, the other reaching for the wand—he moved his wand hand, so that the knight just grabbed his wrist in a crushing grip. He kicked at the knight, claws scraping uselessly against metal—air, he needed more air than this—_

_“Just—stop that—just give it here, you little beast—!”_

_The knight let go of his wand hand, tried to grab for the wand itself again—Toffee’s arm screamed as he made it move out of the way again, and this time the knight caught him by the elbow, pulling—_

_Toffee made a strangled cry, it felt like his arm was ripping, and his eyes watered._

_“Give—”_

_The knight still had his arm, he was trying to just force him to let go of the wand now—he yanked his arm up higher, and Toffee cried out again, eyes squeezing shut, tears spilling—the hand around his throat tightened too, making his eyes snap open—air air **air** he needed air—a—anyone— **Mom** — **Dad** —Toffee saw the wand was now level with the knight’s face, and the knight just kept yanking his arm, he was going to yank it out of its socket—_

_The realization burned across his mind:_ **He was alone, no one was coming. He was going to die, just like Dad. Dad dad Dad _DAD—MOM—_**

_Toffee felt something snap, and the wand glowed green, firing into the knight’s masked face—_

_Just as quickly as he had been caught, Toffee was released, and he was thrown to the dirt, gasping and crying, eyes twisted shut, small claws still wrapped tight around the wand. When he looked up, his eyes widened in horror—the knight’s neck was a blackened, smoking stump, and his head was nowhere to be found._

_Toffee scrambled out of the way as the knight’s body fell to its knees, then flopped forward like a doll._

_The boy kept scrambling back until his back hit the stone wall he’d been thrown into earlier, and he stared at the rest of the Mewman knights, swearing and shouting and raising their weapons higher, rushing toward him._

_Turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut, Toffee raised the wand again, both claws clutching it tight, and even through his eyelids he saw the glow of green, and heard something get hit, something tear, and terrible screaming…_

_When Toffee opened his eyes and faced forward again, he saw armor ripped apart and skeletons strewn across the stone floor, perfectly white skeletons stripped clean of flesh, like flesh had weirdly never even been there._

_Heart pounding, eyes wide, tears still running, Toffee stayed crouched against the rock wall with the wand raised in trembling arms until Eclipsa found him, and gently removed it, and Toffee watched the wand change back into the umbrella form he had known his entire life, and mother held him tight and said—_

 

The pudding cup slipped out of Toffee’s claws, spoon clattering to the ground.

 

“No, never—I never want to—”

 

Toffee felt his breathing go weird, his vision start to go hazy. He tried to face Glossayrck again, to focus on his gem, something to make his vision go back to normal.

 

Slowly, his vision focused again, and the boy’s breathing eased back into something more normal. Still he gasped for air, slumped over slightly, claws digging into his thighs while he sat on his knees, feeling as if had run a very long way.

 

Still slumped over, Toffee’s eyes looked up at Glossayrck. The old man hadn’t said anything else, just watched calmly. For a wild moment, Toffee wondered if he had read his mind or something. Mom had said Glossayrck was extremely powerful. And he was a mystery. Who knows what he could do.

 

Hungrily sucking in one last breath of air, Toffee straightened up slightly. He stared at Glossayrck.

 

“…The wand changed when I held it. Do you know why it did that?”

 

Toffee didn’t bat an eye when Glossayrck began to levitate the cup and spoon and pudding back into place, as if nothing had been spilled. The cup floated to Glossayrck’s hands, and he resumed eating.

 

(Glossayrck was magic, Glossayrck was all powerful, Toffee had at least seen Glossayrck make things float before—and the boy just felt very tired now and really did want to lie down, but still he was curious. He just wanted to ask one more question.)

 

“The wand—” Glossayrck swallowed, then continued. “The wand will change its shape based on whoever holds it.”

 

“Why does it do that?”

 

Glossayrck shrugged, and took another spoonful. “It just does.”

 

Toffee frowned at Glossayrck.

 

“Now, will knowing the ‘ _why_ ’ provide anything relevant in this case, besides satisfying curiosity?” Glossayrck asked, and Toffee blinked, considering that concept. “Besides,” Glossayrck said, after licking the spoon. “You already asked me ‘why,’ and I gave you my answer. This could be a case where there’s no other ‘why’ behind it.”

 

“…Oh,” Toffee said, blinking again, and realizing Glossayrck had a point—he _had_ already asked **why** the wand had changed, and Glossayrck had given an answer to that. He’d just kept…going, questioning, as if driven by instinct.

 

“Don’t overthink this one too much, Toffee,” Glossayrck said, taking another spoonful of pudding, and again making Toffee wonder if he could read minds. “Kids are just normally full of questions, and you’re no different.”

 

Toffee gave a hesitant nod. Then he got up, bowed before Glossayrck, thanked him for his time, and left.

 

…

 

Toffee sees more of Eclipsa afterward, and the boy briefly wonders if maybe Glossayrck told her something about their encounter.

 

Either way, he’s grateful.

 


	3. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting writing this AU after “Just Friends” and after seeing all the episodes before that one; first started writing this before season 2 finale. Just starting to go wild with the theories here before the season finale.
> 
> This part was finished after watching season 2, and reading some of the new tie-in book “Star and Marco's Guide to Mastering Every Dimension”. Part of this is kinda experimental, just me writing for my own interest and to explore things; and partly due to that, this results in this chapter being…well, I will say right now that I really do try to go wild with this chapter. And seriously, when I say AU, I really do mean AU.

iv.

 

(This is the last time Toffee sees his mother truly alive. He is eight.)

 

...

 

Toffee tears off strips of his shirt and bandages Eclipsa’s leg while she barricades the entrance with her wand. Her feet remain firmly planted, she does not move—this all makes it easier for Toffee to dress her wound. (One of them, anyway. She’s already lost a lot of blood. Toffee wishes he were better at this, wishes he could find a proper healer in the chaos of another Mewman assault.)

 

The boy looks up at her, tail whipping back and forth anxiously, jaws clenched, trying not to ask stupid questions or say stupid things, like: _How long will that thing hold? That entrance’s the only way getting in or out. We can’t get out of here—there’s no other way to get out. We’d have to go backward, we’d have to go through the Mewmans at the door. Does this buy you time to fight them off? Or can you make a new exit? Mewmans have never gotten this far into the temple before. Was that knight who just killed the elders really your **daughter**? My half- **sister**? They called her princess, they called her **PRINCESS** —why didn’t you ever talk about her, why don’t you ever really tell me **anything** —does she want your wand? Is this about the stupid STUPID wand? It always is, everyone’s always dying over it, everyone wants it, it’s always destroying, burning, killing, that stupid— **horrible** —it—are we going to die, is this it?_

Toffee bites the inside of his cheek so he can stay quiet. Asking or saying any of this isn’t going to help, he’s certain of this, it’ll just waste time. And he has no idea what to do, has no clue—the only useful thing he can do is to stay quiet and wait and listen and follow Eclipsa’s lead, because Eclipsa knows what she’s doing. Whatever else is going on, his mom knows what she’s doing.

 

But she’s hurt and tired, can’t even maintain her transformed state anymore. (Toffee had not seen her transform like that since the attack that killed Dad.)

 

The young half-monster sees more blood seep through the hasty bandages wrapped around Eclipsa’s abdomen, indicating that the injury there had reopened. At the sight of it, he sucks in a breath, blinking rapidly so as to stop the sudden watering of his eyes; he couldn’t let the fear overwhelm him, that wasn’t going to help.

 

Eclipsa must have heard Toffee, because she finally looks down, locks eyes with him, and maybe she sees his worry and fear and everything he wants to say, no matter how hard he tries to hide it or stay calm. Because her eyes soften, and she kneels down and draws him close, and Toffee just slumps into her embrace, realizing he feels really tired too, and for a moment feels his own injuries too. But his wounds are lesser in number and severity than Eclipsa’s; and guilt still makes him nauseous, knowing some of her wounds she took while protecting him.

 

(He tries to banish small details of his mother’s face—how strained her eyes looked, sweat and blood lining her skin and making it look even paler, how all of her seemed like she tried to resist exhaustion and physical pain.)

 

“Toffee,” she says, and he closes his eyes, hides his face in her shoulder, careful not to touch the bandaged part of it. (His mother is just—she’s injured _all over_. It’s not a new sight, it’s happened as often as Mewmans attack or she goes to fight—but it’s one he still dislikes.) “I haven’t been a good mother…”

 

Immediately Toffee feels even guiltier, and starts to protest (and he also starts feeling very afraid for some reason that he doesn’t want to figure out right now, not right now, not ever).

 

“…I’ve tried, but I’m not. But I love you more than anything, I truly do…”

 

Toffee clings to Eclipsa tighter, starting to dig his claws in. He tries to speak, saying, “I know, I know—” _Stop, just be quiet, please, just tell me what to do, tell me what I can do to help us get out of this, just stop talking about this, talk about anything else, anything but this, just—_   “Mom, what—?”

 

“I need to keep you alive you, and this—”

 

There’s another crash against the barricade that makes Toffee flinch, and then Eclipsa just snaps her mouth shut, and the softness leaves her eyes. She climbs to her feet, grabs Toffee’s arm in a vice-like grip, her other hand raising her wand.

 

Toffee doesn’t hear his mother say anything; he just sees her look very focused. Then energy blasts out of her wand—tendrils of it make a shape, an hourglass; that then spins, resembling a clock—then a hole in space is ripped before them. He can hear voices through the hole.

 

Toffee starts trying to dig his claws into the ground, starts pulling away from Eclipsa, but any strength he has left is useless against hers. She may be more hurt and tired than he is, but she is still too much for him.

 

“Mom, what are you doing?” He asks, looking up at her, eyes wide, chest pounding. “What’s this? What are you—?”

 

Eclipsa begins to throw him forward. Because Toffee resists, she pulls harder, and it twists his arm. He gives a pained shout, and through one eye he managed to keep open while the other squeezed shut, he sees his mother—she's quietly crying, pain etched on her face. 

 

For all his struggling, it’s no use. Eclipsa shoves him through the portal.

 

Toffee feels…very strange for a second. Like weirdly electrified, because it doesn’t entirely hurt like any Mewman electrical spell he’s been caught in, but it—it just feels _weird_. And even when it feels like extreme distortion in his body, it doesn’t feel like pain—it’s more like…like every sense heightened, until it’s blinding, and he does feel like passing out, but it still doesn’t exactly _hurt_ , it’s just—

 

And just as quickly as it happened, the strange sensation is gone, and Toffee hits a smooth surface. But the boy feels like he had before, he feels normal, as normal as he can possibly be with exhaustion and injury. Toffee immediately tries to scramble up, but the stupid ground is slippery. He can’t be delayed, his only chance is to recover quickly and run back—

 

Toffee can still see his mother, through the hole ripped in space. Eclipsa’s arm is already moving, swiping her wand down, and as the wand sweeps down, the portal is zipping shut.

 

“ ** _WAIT!_** ” The boy _screams_ , running forward; but it’s no use, _it’s no use_ —the portal zips shut and out of existence, and his feet scrape and claw against the cool smooth surface. Too stupidly smooth. Toffee had burst forward with such desperate speed, it’s hard to stop, and this smooth surface isn’t helping; he slips and slides, and crashes into something solid.

 

It’s not a wall though.

 

“ ** _Glossayrckwhatdidyoudo_**?!”

 

“Rhombulus, weren’t you paying attention?” Toffee feels a shock of surprised relief to hear the old man. “All right, it’s very likely you weren’t. But as I told you, I’m only keeping an appointment; I did not directly set any of this in motio—”

 

“ _Like hell you didn’t_!”

 

Toffee flinches away, scrambling back from the living arm he had crashed into—it looks like a monster’s arm, belonging to one of those monsters with three minds, because there are two heads attached to the end of each arm, and one cyclops crystal head on top. The boy flinches again when another monster pops out from behind the three-headed monster, someone with horns and a beard and a snout and horns and very big wings, and looking very confused.

 

_Glossayrck_ , the tri-head grown-up said **_Glossayrck_** , and Toffee had recognized the old man’s voice, it came from behind him—he just had to get to him, and he would help him get back to Mom. Toffee whirled around, and froze.

 

He was in a large room, on top of a long, smooth table. There was a large window to the side, and outside were just stars. (How high up were they?)

 

There were even more people in the room—what looked like a monster’s skull in a crystal ball, and if he hadn’t somehow blinked, Toffee wouldn’t have thought he was alive. There was someone who looked sorta like a Mewman lady, but her really pale skin color and the rest of her features made Toffee realize she looked more like one of those demons Mom and Dad had shown him in an old scroll before. The last person _did_ look like a Mewman lady—and more alarmingly she had clear cheek marks and a crown on her head and looked very regal and _was already raising a wand_ _toward him_ —

 

Toffee didn’t move, trembling and frozen with fear and confusion—this Mewman’s wand didn’t look like his mother’s, but it _had_ to be hers, just the shape changed— Mewmans had magic but he hadn’t seen many with exactly wands, they would use other things to channel their magic, or just their own body—the wand only went to Mewman royal ladies with cheek marks, and this Mewman had them, and the wand—but Mom **_just_** had that wand, how could this other royal Mewman have even gotten it—who even was she, she wasn’t the princess-knight he had just seen slaughter monsters at the temple—was there another royal Mewman lady that had a right to the wand, someone he had never heard of, someone Mom never talked about, what—what was going on—

 

The wand fired, and still Toffee didn’t move—but he felt his shirt pull, and then was jerked away.

 

Toffee hung down by the back of his shirt, limp and still in shock, heart pounding and eyes wide as he finally found Glossaryck, looking like he normally did, just calmly floating in the air.

 

“What was _that_?” The first loud voice Toffee had heard in the room shouted, and Toffee flinched at the volume, but finally glanced up at his rescuer. It was definitely the first voice he heard, the tri-head grown-up—Rhombulus, Glossyarck had called him—Rhombulus now had one of his snake hands biting his shirt to hold him up.  “You—your highness, you can’t just shoot him, he just got here—”

 

Through the fog his mind had become, Toffee numbly figured the grown-up had never been to Mewni.

 

…But wait, wasn’t he a monster? How could he not know—?

 

“It’s a monster,” the new Mewman queen hissed, and Toffee flinched, turning to look back at her. “It—”

 

“He’s not just a monster, he’s a Butterfly,” Glossayrck’s voice cut in, and Toffee had never felt so happy to hear and see the old man.

 

The other people in the room stared at Glossayrck, and Toffee felt really uncomfortable looking at the new expression the Mewman wore, so he turned away from her and just focused on the person Eclipsa trusted, and whom had been a mysterious fixture for his whole short life.

 

“Glossayrck, I need your help to get back to Mom, she—”

 

The boy flinched as something banged against the table, and he looked down to find the Mewman had modified the wand to look like a small hammer thing.

 

“And who is your mother, beast?” She said, voice deathly low, and Toffee began to tremble again, he couldn’t find his voice. Even with Glossayrck here, even with the loud guy who had protected him, Toffee did not feel safe with the grown-up Mewman in the room. He hadn’t even found an exit in the room yet, no escape route—

 

“Did you not hear me?” The Mewman’s cold blue eyes narrowed, filling even more with disdain. “Did you not understand?” Something more controlled entered her voice. “Fail to comprehend civilized speech? You managed a few words before, but—”

 

Toffee finally snarled, though his voice cracked. “It’s none of your business!” His fists clenched, claw tips biting into his hands, and he only half-noticed Rhombulus hesitantly lower him back to the table surface so that his feet touched something solid again, releasing the back of his shirt so he could stand on his own. “I don’t even know who you are, you’re _not_ Princess Comet—”

 

Something sparked in the Mewman’s eyes. But it was with a lazy grace that she flicked her hand, and the wand whipped out a glowing vine that wrapped around Toffee and yanked him closer, making his knees slam against the table and cause them to sting.

 

“Woah, wait—!” Rhombulus shouted, sounding very alarmed again. Toffee flinched when something else wrapped around him and pulled in the opposite direction. When he opened his eyes, Toffee found it was indeed Rhombulus again, arms wrapped tight around him and enfolding him into a bear hug, while his snake hands looked very apologetic.

 

“Your highness, he’s not gonna talk if you keep pushing him around,” Rhombulus said, almost whining, and Toffee found it really weird to hear someone so big sound so whining and _what the hell was going on what had Eclipsa thrown him into how was this protecting him?!_

 

“Beast, _why_ did you mention Princess Comet?” The Mewman said, her voice even lower and colder, and Toffee squirmed futilely against her vines, and in Rhombulus’ more protective hold. Clearly as long as the Mewman had him wrapped in vines, Rhombulus wasn’t letting go.

 

“What are you _talking_ about?!” Toffee snapped, trying very hard not to cry and think how much he just wanted his mom right now. He couldn’t cry in front of this Mewman, he couldn’t act like the kid he was, he had to be more grown-up. “ _Comet’s_ supposed to get the wand next, not you, that’s what everyone says—”

 

Toffee finally just gave an inarticulate shout, his anger and fear hitting a breaking point. “ ** _Just let go of me_**!” (So much for acting more grown-up. At least he hadn’t cried.)

 

“I just don’t want the queen yanking you around,” Rhombulus said, sounding a little guilty.

 

“Rhombulus, he’s talking to Queen Sun, not you,” the demon lady finally said in a dry voice.

 

“ _Oh_.”

 

Ignoring those two, Toffee was about to again demand the Mewman let him go—when suddenly the worst pain his body had **_ever_** felt stabbed straight through him, he heard and felt skin rip and bone break—he lost all consciousness, all sensation, everything.

 

...

 

“…there, you see?” Toffee groaned at Glossayrck’s voice. “Like I said, he’s fine.”

 

He must be talking to Mom, and at the thought of her, Toffee wanted to immediately get up and hug her, or make her tell him a story or sing him a song if his body wasn’t able, and right now it didn’t feel like it was able. He just really wanted to hear Mom and see her; he just had the worst dream…wait. Glossayrck sounded like he was reassuring her. No, the attack was real, but Glossayrck must have taken him back to Mom after he passed out, or Mom had come and—

 

“Ohthankgoodness.”

 

That wasn’t Mom. That was loud guy. Rhombulus.

 

Toffee’s eyes snapped open.

 

“The queen’s vine whip just turned him into a pincushion, _how_ is he fine?” That was demon lady.

 

Toffee bolted up, to find all of the strangers still here with Glossayrck, they were still in the same room. A quick glance down showed him his shirt was in tatters, a lot of blood was drying on his chest, but his scales were smooth. Even some of his earlier wounds were gone. Toffee remembered just feeling like he had been stabbed all over, before blacking out…

 

His yellow eyes fell on the wand-vines that had trapped him, discarded on the floor—now covered in long thorns, and a cluster of them drenched in blood.

 

Slowly looking back up, he found the Mewman glaring at him, and his heart pounded—he almost screamed with shock and fear when something touched him, but it was just loud guy shoving him behind and under his long cape. “Nah uh, not again,” Rhombulus said.

 

“Glossayrck, ** _explain_** ,” the Mewman hissed, and Toffee worked up the nerve to peek out from under Rhombulus’ cape to look at Glossayrck.

 

The old man finally _really_ looked at him, and Toffee felt something like hope.

 

“Toffee, tell them your mother’s name.”

 

The young half-monster looked away, out the window, to the stars. “…Eclipsa,” he said, reluctantly obeying the old man.

 

The winged goat monster gave a shocked bleat, and Toffee looked around at the strangers; demon lady’s eyes were wide and she was silently mouthing _no way_ ; the Mewman queen looked shocked and angry and even more murderous; the monster skull in the crystal ball looked surprised, but also not as much as the others so far, and also looked a little something like guilty and definitely skittish; goat monster—again, just shocked; Rhombulus somehow looked smaller, all of his heads wide-eyed. Of course, Glossayrck was excluded from any great show of emotion—but then again, he already knew who Toffee’s mother was.

 

“You’re lying,” the Mewman hissed, glowering at the young half-monster, looking at him as if he were lower than dirt. Toffee growled back at her, hate climbing up his throat. (The boy wished he could claw out those cold blue eyes.)

 

“He isn’t,” Glossayrck said in a firm voice.

 

The Mewman whirled on him. “That’s impossible, it’s been _hundreds_ of years since Eclipsa ran off with that monster!”

 

Toffee felt his stomach drop and his heart stop. (The recent memory burned in his mind: Mom’s wand blast first forming an hourglass, then a clock, then a hole in space.)

 

The goat monster turned to the monster skull in the crystal ball, bleating and glaring. Demon lady narrowed her eyes at him too. “Omni, you’ve been more real-weirdly-quiet, not super-shocked-quiet over there.”

 

“Also, Omni’s all space-time!” Rhombulus added.

 

“Yeah, I was getting to that,” demon lady said, rolling her eyes.

 

“Glossayrck, I want to see Mom right now—I want to go back to the temple, I want to go _home_ ,” Toffee quickly cut in, eyes locking with the old man’s, he didn’t want to hear anything else, he just wanted to _leave_ , he wanted to leave right _now_ , **_please_** —

 

“I—I don’t think that’ll be possible.” That was the skul—Omni, finally speaking. “I’ll have to run a diagnostic, but I’m already sensing that it’s—”

 

“—Impossible,” Glossayrck finished, and already Toffee was shaking his head.

 

Queen Sun grit her teeth. “You’re not honestly suggesting that this thing—”

 

“‘Toffee,’” Glossayrck mildly corrected.

 

“— _Beast_ ,” Queen Sun spat out, refusing the correction. “Are you seriously suggesting this wretched beast is Eclipsa’s filthy half-breed child sent from the past—”

 

“ _I don’t want an explanation, I just want to go **home**_!” Toffee screamed at Glossayrck, desperation and terror warping his voice and—oh no, no, _now_ he was crying.

 

“…You are only getting one of those things, and it’s not the one you want,” Glossayrck said. Although Toffee then called him a very bad word that Mom always said he could never use, Glossayrck still continued. “Toffee, the last you saw Eclipsa, she was at the end of her rope—sending you to someplace far away wasn’t enough for her…and so she used a very experimental spell to send you forward in time.”

 

Toffee opened his mouth, glaring, but Glossayrck cut him off, already answering the question he was about to shout. “She had to stay behind and seal the portal shut herself. She had little control over time and place—again, the spellwork was experimental, and time itself is just a tricky thing. Eclipsa could only specify that she wanted to send you forward, and she could at least _identify_ the time and place her magic was sending you to; when she was able, she asked that I meet you then—”

 

“This is _insane_ ,” Toffee choked out through his tears, anger now twisting his voice, a burning glare in his eyes.

 

“Your mother was desperate,” Glossayrck simply said. “And there was at least one other factor.” Toffee rashly doubted that, feeling that Glossayrck was holding back even more about Eclipsa’s reasoning.

 

“Perhaps the overriding factor, really,” Glossayrck said. “The time travel enchantment is tied to another spell, one she used to make you immortal.”

 

“…What?” Toffee breathed, staring blankly at Glossayrck. He dimly heard the goat monster give a very long shocked bleat and demon lady flatly say, “Shut _up_.”

 

“So…” Rhombulus began slowly, carefully. “Toffee survived the queen stabbing him because Eclipsa put an immortality spell on him? And that’s because it’s connected to her sending him through time, from the past to the future—I mean, now?”

 

“Evidently,” Queen Sun said in a dangerously low voice. “It seems Eclipsa has gone beyond what the Queen of Hours had first pioneered…”

 

Glossayrck didn’t look to the others, his eyes remained on Toffee. “Eclipsa was desperate, and wanted to keep you alive,” he said.

 

“ _And she thought_ **this** _was a good idea_?!” Toffee shouted, small claws curling so hard into fists he felt his palms sting and bleed.

 

“Ah, let me clarify,” Glossayrck said, and Toffee couldn’t believe how the old man could still be so calm, acting as if he had just asked a simple question, like they were back at the temple and Toffee had just given him pudding. Could nothing ever really _get_ to him? (But then…then Glossayrck had…he had a lot of years to wait for this, apparently.) “I keep emphasizing Eclipsa’s desperation, because it was a factor that clouded her better judgment.”

 

“I…I…” Toffee’s voice quivered, the tension in his shoulders slipped away and he felt limp, almost felt like collapsing to his knees; his glare dropped, replaced by a look that was part-dazed, part-lost, and still scared. Then he snapped, glaring again, back going ram-rod straight again. “I don’t _care_ , I don’t care, I don’t care about _any_ of that, it’s all—it’s all just _noise_ , stupid, it’s stupid—I want to go home, I just want to go **home** —”

 

“Kid, kid, just—zip it for a sec,” the demon lady started to say, and glanced at the goat monster angrily bleating at her, and completely missing Toffee growling in her direction. “—Kid…Prince, I guess—?”

 

A terrible glare twisted the Mewman’s face. “He is **_not_** —!”

 

“By birth he is,” Glossayrck cut in.

 

“I. Don’t. **_CARE_**!” Toffee screamed, and that immediately made the Mewman and the old man stare at the young half-monster. The Mewman looked incensed, while Glossayrck looked at him as if he were a very interesting specimen, and in that instant Toffee hated them both in equal measure.

 

Demon lady held up a hand in Glossayrck and the Mewman’s direction, as if to block them out, and her eyes met Toffee’s glare. “Just…calm down for a sec, okay? We need Glossayrck to back up.” Before Toffee could snarl at her again, the demon lady glanced away from him and back to Glossayrck. “Seriously, back up again to the mechanics of what Eclipsa _did_.”

 

The goat monster suddenly bleated again, and Rhombulus said, “Wait, Lekmet wants to know what you’ve been sensing, Omni. Y’know, for comparison? Like, he’s guessing you sensed that this was a space-time thing, but, y’know—to double check—”

 

Omni began. “I—”

 

Realizing the grown-ups seemed distracted enough, Toffee bolted, looking for an exit from this room. He didn’t get very far, demon lady suddenly appearing before him, cutting him off. He tried to sidestep her, but she was there again. And—wait.

 

There were a bunch of demon lady copies now circling him.

 

“Princeling, you’re gonna have to sit tight while we figure this out—” All the demon lady copies said in creepy unison, reaching out their hands for him.

 

Toffee backed up, growling a warning, tailing anxiously and aggressively lashing back and forth. When the demon lady copies didn’t take the hint and just continued, one of them getting too close, the boy lunged forward, sinking his fangs into her outstretched hand.

 

Not exactly reassuring when she just sighed, but Toffee was starting to feel overwhelmed by red filling his vision and head.

 

The boy bit down harder, growling louder when he felt hands wrap around his torso and start to pull him away.

 

“C’mon, this isn’t gonna work—just relax—”

 

“Pfft, he’s got quite a grip—or bite, I guess—”

 

Both voices belonged to demon lady, and the twin voices sounded like they were having a conversation. (Toffee wildly wondered if this counted as talking to yourself for them—her? What tense— _ohthiswastoostupid_.)

 

Toffee did not let go, until he was yanked back with a sudden force, and he felt skin rip and blood fill in his mouth, making his eyes widen in alarm and revulsion. Then immediately he spat that junk out, coughing and gagging. (Honestly, that wasn’t the first time he had bitten a chunk out of someone, he’d done it with some Mewmans before—but it wasn’t something he was very good at or that used to, and he didn’t like it. It wasn’t like hunting small animals, which he had little problem with, but that was different—that was for food, not for a fight.)

 

Looking around, the half-monster saw that demon lady was down to only two copies of herself, one holding him; the other in front of him with his teeth marks in her arm and a chunk of her flesh ripped away.

 

Demon lady glanced at the wound on her arm, and laughed. “Ah, little guy bit off more than he could chew,” she said, almost sounding fond, and Toffee stared at her as if she were crazy.

 

Toffee hurriedly wiped the blood and remaining flesh from his mouth, and watched Lekmet heal the demon lady’s bite wound with glowing hooves and a scolding bleat.

 

Then one of the demon lady twins set him down. “There. Got it out of your system, now? Feeling calmer?”

 

Toffee stared up at her—then began using even more bad words Mom had always forbidden. (But then Mom wasn’t _here_ , was she?)

 

“—no, _no_ , I’m **_not_** doing this, I’m _NOT_ —” Toffee said, once he had exhausted all the bad words he had ever learned. “I don’t _care_ , how many times do I have to say it?!—I just want to go home—I want my **_Mom_** —!”

 

“ _Enough_ ,” hissed Queen Sun, and Toffee flinched. He stared at her; the Mewman had her arms crossed, wand tapping impatiently against her arm. He kept staring at that wand. “We can’t do this with him here; just—”

 

Toffee lunged for her, and actually managed to make contact, he had apparently managed to catch her by surprise—he was climbing up her dress, desperately clawing and reaching for her wand—Mom used that wand to send him here, it would send him back to her—if he could just get his claws on it—

 

The Mewman’s eyes and cheek marks glowed white, just like Eclipsa’s when she transformed, and Toffee felt his blood run cold. Then something like wind and heat and electricity threw him back, and he heard other things—bodies—hit the floor. And though it wasn’t the worst pain he had ever felt, it still _hurt_ , and Toffee lost consciousness again.

 

**A/N: THAT SEASON 2 FINALE. ENJOYED IT. Mygod still a lot of mystery, it didn’t really do anything to completely derail this fic, so that’s kind of neat. (But man, some more answers would’ve been nice—but really, it’s fantastic as is, and I’m impressed that they’re keeping the mystery up, and actually really do like that. THE SEASON 2 FINALE WAS SO GOOD, IT STILL GIVES ME JOY AND CHILLS AND JOY.)**

**With Father Time and recently Omnatrix, there have been instances of time-space travel in the show, and I wanted to take those space-time travel themes/concepts and combine them more with the possibility of plot/Toffee backstory (also just wanted to go kinda wild with some crazy time-space travel plot-and-character stuff). And then the tie-in book “Star and Marco's Guide to Mastering Every Dimension” happened—I haven’t finished it, just got it, was just flipping through it, but let me tell you Skywynne Queen of Hours made me freak out, and I had to include her, it was just another thing to work in this crazy fic’s favor, another instance of space-time travel (and even backstory behind the spell Star first used that introduced her to Father Time in the first place). I really did have the visual for Eclipsa’s experimental time-space spell written out before I had seen the page about Skywynne in the new book. Also had the visual of the wand-vine attacking Toffee before seeing him use a gigantic magical vine against Moon, and somehow that just made that fic visual better in my mind.**

**I honestly was writing this scene with the High Magic Commission and brainstorming further fallout from it before the season 2 finale aired, and I find the season finale makes this 10000x better in my mind. It just made for this neat mix of basically “okay frantic little cute half-monster kid here, what do, we definitely can’t tell him about his mom that we locked up and have no intention of releasing nope nope, but shit this kid is like having a mental breakdown at eight years old,” to years later “ _OHGOD HE’S KILLING US_ ” really amuses me. I was already brainstorming Toffee’s sheer rage when he eventually learns the Magic High Commission knew Eclipsa was alive and had her imprisoned the whole time, and never told him and just let him think she died all those years ago—and the S2 finale of Toffee just wrecking their shit nicely adds a new level to that development I’m brainstorming. **

 


	4. v

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Started writing this AU after “Just Friends” and after seeing all the episodes before that one; first started writing this before season 2 finale. Just started to go wild with the theories here before the season 2 finale. Continuing to write this after seeing the season 2 finale, reading some of the tie-in book “Star and Marco's Guide to Mastering Every Dimension”, reading some of the “Deep Trouble” comic arc, and THAT SEASON 3 PROMO OMG I’M EXCITED WOW. Part of this fic is kinda experimental, just me writing for my own interest and to explore things.

v.

 

“So we good, crystal? Everything clearer now?” Glossayrck asked, looking at the Magical High Commission through half-lidded eyes.

 

“…Toffee needs to know this,” Rhombulus said, sounding dazed, and looking down at the young half-monster still passed out on the table.

 

Except for Glossayrck, Queen Sun’s transformative outburst had blown them all back. The rest of the Magical High Commission just had to pick themselves up after that, but they found Toffee knocked out, which was not much of a surprise. Even if he was apparently immortal, he was still a child.

 

While Lekmet intercepted the queen before she could lunge for Toffee, Rhombulus had plucked the boy up and laid him on the table. He then ripped off part of his cape to wrap a makeshift covering over Toffee, to compensate where his shirt was in tatters. And pondering it further, Rhombulus began trying to clean the blood off the boy.

 

Only Glossayrck could talk the queen down and make her transform back into her base state, after whispering something low into her ear.

 

“I’ll try explaining the finer points to Toffee when he’s ready,” Glossayrck replied, glancing at Rhombulus. Then he turned to Queen Sun. “Now we can do the lineage test.”

 

Hekapoo crossed her arms, smirking. “Not gonna take Glossayrck’s word on this? The kid said the same thing too.”

 

“I require more confirmation,” Sun said flatly. She then lifted her wand, which shimmered and shifted into a knife, and held it above Toffee.

 

Rhombulus squirmed, then made a move forward—only to stop as Lekmet grabbed him, giving a quiet bleat.

 

“You don’t need much,” Glossayrck said. “An imprecise hand won’t do.”

 

Sun glanced at Glossayrck from the corner of her eye. “Will your little immortal heal too quickly to get a sample?”

 

Glossayrck stared back, expression unchanging. “Just don’t take much.”

 

Sun arched a brow; then turned her attention to Toffee. A glare crossed her face, and her jaw clenched. She took a breath, focused the diagnostic spell in her mind and in her wand-knife, and carefully, precisely sliced a thin cut across Toffee’s cheek.

 

The superficial cut did not swiftly heal, as the boy had done earlier, after the queen’s wand-vine had rapidly sprouted thorns that skewered him. The cut remained, and the spell functioned as expected—making the cut glow white. Equally white smoky tendrils drifted up from it, and gathered into the unmistakable shape of a spade.

 

“Congrats, it’s a boy,” Hekapoo said with a wry voice, while Sun glared, and angrily flicked her wrist, dissipating the smoky spade, and her wand resumed its usual shape. Toffee only stirred a little, but otherwise remained passed out, with only a normal-looking, superficial cut on his cheek.

 

“...So, um, do the small things heal slower, or—?” Rhombulus asked, staring at the cut that lingered.

 

“Eclipsa’s spell made Toffee immortal, not necessarily invulnerable. It’ll only really kick in with something more severe, or lethal harm,” Glossayrck said. “And it’s still a heavily experimental spell, altering one of the most serious aspects of life; it’s bound to have its imperfections. Be finicky.”

 

“…So, what, like a conservation of magical energy or something?” Hekapoo wondered.

 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Glossayrck replied with a shrug. Hekapoo just arched a brow, while Rhombulus looked extremely annoyed.

 

“He is Septarian, isn’t he?” Queen Sun questioned.

 

“Half-Septarian, anyway,” Hekapoo added, and only smirked when the queen shot her a glare.

 

“What of his Septarian regeneration then?” Queen Sun asked in a low voice, turning back to Glossayrck. “Is that part of what we witnessed earlier?”

 

“Pretty much. It’s been accelerated,” Glossayrck replied. “Now that I’ve answered, there’ll be no need for a stress test, will there be, my Queen?”

 

Sun cracked a very thin smile.

 

Cyclops eye frowning, Rhombulus shook one snake-hand, who then spat out a small adhesive bandage on top of the head of his other snake-hand. Rhombulus then bent over the young half-monster, and carefully stuck the bandage over the cut on his cheek.

 

Leaning back, Rhombulus fidgeted. Then said, “Maybe…we could—guys, can’t we—?”

 

Everyone—minus Glossayrck and an unconscious Toffee—said “ ** _No_** ” in unison (bleated it adamantly in Lekmet’s case).

 

“You didn’t even let me finish!” Rhombulus whined.

 

“We are not authorizing Eclipsa’s release,” Hekapoo snapped.

 

“Just her head!” Rhombulus said. “Just so Toffee can talk to her—”

 

“That’s still too risky!” Hekapoo snarled, the fire above her head burning higher.

 

“She’s right,” Omni agreed, while Lekmet gave a low, assenting bleat.

 

“Absolutely not,” Queen Sun said. “And you are to say nothing of Eclipsa to the boy, none of you are.” Her glare had gone around the room, but focused on Rhombulus—who winced—then turned to Glossayrck (who didn’t react). “As far as he’ll know, Eclipsa died centuries ago.”

 

“Well, fine then,” Rhombulus said, crossing his arms and pouting. “But what are we gonna do now with—?”

 

“That is no longer your concern,” Queen Sun said, picking Toffee up and tucking him under one arm. “This is a matter for the Butterfly family now.”

 

“Wha—but—” and Rhombulus shot the other High Commission members a look, and while they had varying looks of concern (even Hekapoo seemed uncertain), none made a move. At a loss, Rhombulus turned to their creator. “Glossayrck?”

 

“It’s as the queen says,” he replied, and Rhombulus frowned.

 

“Of course you’d say that,” he grumbled, cyclops crystal head looking away. But out of the corner of his eye, Rhombulus watched Queen Sun and Glossayrck leave with a still unconscious Toffee.

 

…

 

Toffee was slow to wake, covering his head with his blanket. He wanted to sleep in. When the boy finally peeked out of the covers, one groggy eye focusing, his sluggish movements stilled as the realization hit him: this wasn’t the quarters he shared with Mom, or ones that belonged to Dad’s extended family, or anywhere in the temple. This wasn’t home.

 

The boy bolted up, and winced when his head pounded. He rubbed his aching head, ran a hand down his face, to rub the sand out of his eyes. His hand paused when it felt the bandage on his cheek, and he poked at it experimentally.

 

Toffee shivered, and drew his blanket closer—his blanket?

 

Looking down, Toffee confirmed it wasn’t his blanket from home, like his previous grogginess had assumed. This was Rhombulus’ cape he was wrapped up in—or part of it, as the ripped and tattered edge suggested. (That, and it was too small to be his full cape.)

 

_Rhombulus_ —Toffee squeezed his eyes shut, feeling sick as he remembered everything. The last thing, the last thing was…he had tried to take the wand from Queen Sun, and then she started glowing like Eclipsa, and threw him back with rising magic; his head got hurt, and then nothing, he must have blacked out then.

 

Now, Toffee tried to get up slowly, trying not to make his head pound horribly again.

 

“…won’t work,” Glossayrck said.

 

Toffee stilled, and slowly looked around, toward the old man’s voice. The boy realized he was definitely in a different room; it looked more like a workshop. There were no windows. He realized he had been laid out on another table, smaller than the other that had been with Rhombulus and the others. And to his mounting horror, he realized Queen Sun stood not a few feet away, her back to him, and with a floating Glossayrck at her shoulder.

 

The young monster started to move slowly and carefully, trying to get away without her noticing.

 

“That’s another thing I need to confirm for myself,” the queen said, immediately turning around before Toffee could duck out of sight.

 

The Mewman caught his eye, and Toffee froze. She did not look surprised at all by his waking up now. Queen Sun approached, and still Toffee didn’t move, even when the wand started glowing green at her side. The boy was petrified, fear making everything in his mind and body freeze and seize up.

 

When Sun was close enough, she raised her wand—and Toffee threw the scrap of Rhombulus’ cape into her face, finally able to move himself to desperate action. It didn’t exactly land, fabric was hard to throw; but it momentarily blocked her vision, and Toffee took what chance that offered him. He jumped off the table and ran, while the Mewman was already reaching to swipe the fabric out of her line of sight.

 

The boy’s eyes darted around until they fell on an exit next to a bookshelf. Where the exit actually led, he had no idea; but it was out of this room, which was good enough for now. Toffee ran for it—but then the bookshelf glowed green, and suddenly slid in front of the exit.

 

Toffee could not stop in time. He tried, and skidded, but still he crashed into the shelf, and fell down to the ground. The impact wasn’t only enough to throw him down; the shelf shook, and some books fell down on top of the boy. Instinctively he covered his head, his eyes squeezed shut. His jaw clenched when he felt pain burst on his back and shoulders, and across his tail.

 

Toffee opened his eyes, and scrambled to his feet, shoving books off of him, trying to ignore the protests of his banged up body.

 

When he looked up, the Mewman had her wand raised toward him, firing a green blast—

 

…

 

Queen Sun watched the half-breed brat fall back to the ground, lifeless, with eyes wide open and blacked out, snout slightly left gaping, small fangs showing.

 

The monarch’s blue eyes switched to the wand. At first it seemed fine, at first it seemed to have worked.

 

And then the wand shook in her hand, vibrating wildly, until butterflies made of glowing light burst out of it, their color shifting from green to pale pink, and they flew back around Toffee, rapidly spinning around the boy.

 

Sun swore, but the light butterflies remained, and soon dove straight into Toffee’s chest. They seamlessly pierced and disappeared into him, making his eyes glow white for a moment, and then he woke up with a gasp.

 

…

 

Sitting up, Toffee hungrily sucked in air, trying to figure out what had just happened. If the Mewman had just knocked him unconscious, why did he feel so desperate to breathe?

 

With a new spike of alarm, Toffee realized he didn’t have the queen in his sights. He found her soon enough, and was grateful she wasn’t again firing a blast of green straight into his face before he could react. But she looked down at him with a terrible rage and dark disappointment clouding her expression.

 

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Glossayrck said, just appearing out of thin air at Queen Sun’s side. “You can’t suck the lifeforce out of him, you cannot absorb his immortality enchantment; Eclipsa took those threats into account, she tried to be very thorough with this spell—”

 

“You…you want immortality?” Toffee asked, blankly staring up at the Mewman. Somehow this surprised and confused him enough to override his fear for the moment. Or maybe his emotions were hitting such a feverish point, he was now coming straight out the other side feeling numb and blank and used up.

 

“Hold your tongue about things beyond your pitiful understanding, beast!” The queen snarled at him, and Toffee flinched, recoiling back, feeling fear take him again. He remained crouched on the floor, terrified and homesick.

 

“A lot of people want immortality,” Glossayrck said, his voice mild.

 

Toffee scowled, and seized on his rising anger (it was better than fear). “I _don’t!_ I just want to go home!” Then the boy crumpled, feeling his anger leave as fast as it came, and desperation and grief come to choke him instead. “Glossayrck, _please_. I just—”

 

“Nothing can be done, Toffee,” Glossyarck said, looking the young monster in the eye. “You can scream for it all you want—and this is not wrong for you to do; you are a child, you have every right to demand to go home…but it’s a demand that can never be met. You cannot go back to your original time. This is a fact, as absolute as your father’s death.”

 

Toffee’s breathing grew very harsh, labored. He stood back up, looking at Glossyarck with growing horror in his eyes. He shook, his claws shook, even when he curled them into fists, they wouldn’t stop shaking. The boy’s horrified eyes slowly shifted into a glare, and they blurred with tears dripping down his face.

 

“Don’t…don’t…t-talk about my—don’t talk about my dad,” Toffee finally said in a low scrape of a voice. He knew there was more he wanted to say, but that was the first to spill out. “You…you can’t talk about my dad…what the _hell_ do you know about him…you horrible…useless… _heartless_ —”

 

Toffee snatched up one of the books that had fallen on top of him, and threw it as hard as he could at Glossayrck. Of course, the old man floated out of the way.

 

“ _If you’re not gonna help me, then just go away!_ ” The young monster screamed at him, crying harder now. “ _I **hate** you!_ ”

 

Queen Sun’s eyes impassively darted between the two.

 

“You heard him, Glossayrck,” the Mewman said. “You may leave us.”

 

He carried no emotion, but Glossayrck still favored Toffee with a look. The boy’s chest still heaved with crying, and the glare still burned in his eyes.

 

Glossayrck bowed to Sun. “As you wish, my queen.”

 

And then he was gone. Just like that, back into thin air.

 

Toffee stared at the space where Glossayrck had been; the one familiar face from home...now the only person he had left from home—

 

His knees threatened to buckle, but the half-monster fought the urge to collapse. He still breathed harshly, and now glared at the queen, trying to swallow his fear. There was still the wand; as impossible as it seemed to reach, if he could just get a hold of it, maybe he could make it take him home...surely it could do that, everyone was wrong to suggest that it couldn't, that nothing could be done, they had to be wrong…

 

With enough of a tense quiet finally passing, Toffee was able to calm down enough to try to remember what he and the other children at the temple had been taught about fighting and defense. He took a stance and readied himself. Toffee did not think there was anything else to do but try direct force to get the wand now. The queen was watching him too closely; he couldn't catch her off guard the same way he managed last time. He couldn't even fathom how to try outsmarting her. All the boy could think was he had to try to fight her for it now; if he could even manage to get one claw tip on the wand, it might give him all the advantage he sorely needed. Toffee remembered when he first held the wand, the Mewman knights it slayed to defend him.  He tried to ignore the horror of that memory, and just remind himself that it had worked for him then; it could work for him again. (This was all the reasoning of an eight-year-old caught in emotional turmoil, and knowing he had no real help in sight.)

 

Toffee didn’t dare take his eyes off the Mewman right now, but he thought of wherever the hell he was now; it seemed like a lab, actually. He could try to use the environment, try to find a makeshift weapon, knock stuff over in distraction, to impede her...but, it was a lab, with what seemed like a lot of bottles of unknown substance. While it could be useful to mess with them, it could also be disastrous. He remembered his mother warn him to mind the bottled potions and chemicals in the lab she shared at the temple with dad, as they could be dangerous. (Toffee tried to squash the anger, grief, and desperate longing the memory of Eclipsa inspired in him.) If only he recognized anything Sun had here, what to avoid, what he could use; but the boy couldn’t identify any of them. He didn’t think he was desperate enough to risk breaking something that might explode the very room they were in, or start some other terrible reaction beyond what he could withstand. (This was also the reasoning of an eight-year-old child not used to recently granted immortality.)

 

It did not help that Queen Sun’s cold blue eyes looked down at him, watching him so closely, considering, calculating. It did not make him feel free to look away for even a moment; nor did it help with his fear. Her watchful blue eyes were unnerving. It left him with a sense of no escape, and no hope for catching her off guard with anything this time. Toffee’s heart pounded, and he did his best not to crack under her gaze.

 

The boy flinched and raised his arms to block when she suddenly raised her wand—but her blast hit the floor in between them, leaving behind a short sword clattering to the ground. He stared at it warily, not lowering his arms from their block, expecting the conjured sword to float up and attack him, or to sprout out some terrible form of animal magic from its hilt.

 

He heard the queen move, and Toffee’s eyes frantically darted back up to her, he couldn't let her out of his sight—

 

But Sun was only tying her blue hair back up, adjusting every strand back into place.

 

“Toffee,” she said, and he jolted, somehow more disturbed than satisfied to hear her use his actual name, for what seemed like the first time. He had detested being called beast, but something about her using his name didn't feel much better. Something in her voice still made him uneasy.

 

“If you’re intent on trying to fight me, there you go,” she said, taking her time fixing her hair, shrugging a shoulder at the conjured weapon. “I’m curious to see if you can touch me even once with that sword.”

 

Sheer rage enveloping him, Toffee burst forward, snatching up the sword and slashing it forward with an inarticulate screaming, shrieking roar of hate. So what if the Mewman was playing with him? So what if she said that because she _knew_ he could never lay a claw on her, that he was that weak compared to her? So what, _so what_ —he would cut her to ribbons, he would make her _pay_ , he didn't care she was far stronger, he would—

 

Shooting forward with the sword, Toffee missed. The queen sidestepped him and swept her leg back, then kicked him hard in the stomach in one swift, brutal movement that threw him down to the floor with a sickening crack. He bounced on the floor, lost the grip on his weapon, and eventually skidded to a halt, crying out in pain, his eyes squeezed shut and burning with a fresh wave of agonized tears. His world was reduced to how everything in his body hurt and the terrible noises he was making because of that. His trembling arms reflexively gathered over his battered abdomen, useless. The young monster started wetly coughing uncontrollably, aggravating the fire in his body even more; and though every inch of him protested it, he rolled off his back and onto his side, where it was a little easier to cough, where the wetness could spill out instead of pool in his maw.

 

“Of course I’ll fight back,” said Queen Sun, and at her voice, Toffee curled up tighter, shaking. (She hit so _hard_.) “And you’re welcome to try as long as you can stay conscious.”

 

Toffee growled lowly, and slowly opened his eyes. He saw blood, on the floor, around his maw. He began to sit up, groaning, trying to wipe off some of the blood and tears off his face with one claw, while the other still gripped his stomach. He tried to catch his breath, though now breathing really hurt. The monster struggled to stand, and looked around for where his sword had fallen.

 

Finding it, he stumbled for the weapon, and carefully picked it up one-handed, while his other hand still gripped his wounded stomach. The sword hung limply at his side, and now Toffee felt more keenly the weight of it.

 

He had to raise his weapon. Toffee thought he should use both of his hands again. It took him two tries before he managed to get both trembling hands around the sword hilt and leave his throbbing stomach alone.

 

Sword raised, Toffee tried to get his hands to still and stop shaking. He tried to remember everything Eclipse had taught him about sword fighting. (He tried not to think of how much he wanted his mother after again remembering her so directly. He had to focus on the fight.)

 

Toffee hadn't managed to fully compose himself when the Mewman darted forward, a blade of energy bursting from her wand and forming a sword-shape, with the wand itself acting as the hilt. The young monster struggled to react in time—

 

_She was too tall, she looked so big, looming, **towering**_

 

—and all he managed to do was raise his arms and barely block her strike with his weapon, but the shock from the block painfully ran up his arms. And he did not stand his ground; her strike still forced him back, though it did not make him fall.

 

The queen kept striking, fast and hard. Toffee struggled to block, trapped in defense, until finally her blade of energy slid through and struck his shoulder. While it made him cry out, he also realized that her spelled weapon didn’t cut, but batter and burn and sting.

 

The young monster slowed after that strike, and he tried to get back to his previous speed. But the queen took full advantage—or likely held back less—and rapidly struck again and again, Toffee failing to dodge or block. Eventually it just became a pained blur to the boy, only broken up by the sound of his body finally crashing back to the ground.

 

Panting, wheezing, Toffee managed to shakily stand back up, using his sword planted in the ground for support. At least he hadn’t dropped his weapon; he actually had it choked in a death grip now, his claws had only tightened uselessly around the hilt with every hit he took.

 

As soon as he felt able, Toffee didn’t even think; he just struck forward with the sword, growling, even if every part of his body still hurt. Queen Sun deflected his every attempt, unless she dodged it.

 

“You _do_ have some training with a sword,” the Mewman observed, her voice detached, as she deflected another strike. “It’s remained common enough for royalty to be trained in the art; I wonder if this is something Eclipsa shared with you…”

 

Growing even more frustrated with his failure and the queen’s power, growing angrier at the mention of his mother—and with Sun reading the situation accurately enough, he _had_ learned about sword fighting mostly from Eclipsa—the young monster shot forward with a greater burst of speed and aggression. Again the queen dodged, and Toffee’s momentum kept him going, exposing his back to her.

 

Toffee screamed as what felt like fire slashed across his back, and his legs wavered. He started to fall.

 

Desperate, furious, the boy managed to stay on his feet, and twist back around and stab toward the queen again—

 

Her sword was faster, it was going to hit, he couldn’t dodge or block it, it was going to hit his—he closed his eyes in time, but Toffee still _shrieked_ when her blade struck across one of them.

 

Her next attack sent him flying, and he cried out when he felt his body smash itself against something hard, and could only groan when the impact sent him crumpling to the floor. He dropped his weapon, his eyes still squeezed shut. One of them throbbed terribly where the queen hit it, though he dimly felt it was swelling up like a black eye, he knew what a black eye felt like. Toffee had gotten little ones in scraps with other kids back home; and bigger ones, worse ones during some of the Mewman raids on temple grounds. This black eye would be one of the bigger ones, the worse ones. 

 

From where he lay broken on the ground, again Toffee was tempted to stay down; his body did not want to move anymore. The young monster’s jaw clenched, fighting with himself.

 

_Get up—_

_I can’t—_

_Have to—_

**_I CAN’T_ ** _—_

Finally his battered mind registered the sound of the queen’s footsteps, and his claws dug into the floor, feeling anger, hate, fear, every foul feeling wash over and threaten to drown him.

 

**_GET UP_ ** _—_

_I can’t do it anymore!_

_She’s coming, the Mewman is coming, and she’s gonna—_

_Mom, I want Mom—I want my Dad— **MOM** —_

**_THEY’RE GONE!_ **

 

The footsteps grew louder, and Toffee…then Toffee realized the queen may not be surprised if he did pass out now.

 

The boy felt something inside him, somewhere inside the throbbing wound it felt like his entire body had become—he felt something inside him grow very still and quiet. And then Toffee stopped fighting for the moment, and gave into the exhaustion and pain, slumping down. His claws stopped digging into the floor. Toffee waited, eyes still closed.

 

The Mewman’s footsteps stopped, and Toffee could smell her nauseating perfume. He remained limp and laid out on the ground, eyes shut. The picture of someone beaten into unconsciousness.

 

Toffee felt the tip of her boot nudge his side, and he shoved down the instinct to recoil at the sore ache she was prodding and irritating, drew more on his body’s exhaustion and pain to keep him down and still. He felt that foot draw back—he heard it keep moving backward—he grew certain the queen was drawing back to kick him again, to harshly make sure he was unconscious—

 

The young monster, summoning what energy and strength he had left, snapped up and sunk his fangs into the queen’s other leg. If all of his sensibilities were not consumed with pain and emotional upheaval, Toffee would have been more repulsed by the taste of blood and flesh and bone in the course of battle. Now, he was just focused on attacking his tormentor.

 

She did not cry out, nor fall. Toffee thought the queen stumbled only a little.

 

He tried to bring up his claws and dig them into her flesh; he tried to twist, break her leg; he tried to pull away, rip a part of her leg off—

 

But he felt a familiar brilliant light against his eyelids, and felt a terribly familiar force throw him back, and again he crashed to the floor.

 

Toffee groaned from where he lay on his back. Grimacing, he rolled over, so that he could rise up on his knees and hands. He could still fight, he could still—

 

What felt like vines sprang up around him, lifting him up and entangling him, trapping him, and a heightened spark of terror and panic ignited within Toffee. The last time the queen had him in vines, their thorns had skewered him, and he would have died for good if not for Eclipsa’s immortality spell. Toffee squirmed and shouted. He tried biting at what held him. Nothing helped, he was again trapped. Would he be skewered again?...

 

“You’re more clever than I gave you credit for,” the queen said, and Toffee raised his head, panting, glaring through one eye, the other well and truly swollen up—then his remaining eye widened.

 

The Mewman had transformed like Eclipsa could do. She had the wings, and the extra arms, though her color was different. He realized the vines that trapped him were different from before; they weren’t vines at all—this was her webbing, like what his mother had when she was in this state. Wrapped around her leg where he had bit her was webbing too, forming a makeshift bandage.

 

“Perhaps your half-breed brain is more Mewman than I thought,” Queen Sun said, and Toffee felt the anger burn in his throat.

 

“ _Shut up!_ ” He shouted at her, again struggling madly with the webbing. It still wouldn’t let him go.

 

The queen scowled, raised a hand, and shot a stream of webbing that covered Toffee’s maw, muffling his angry and now terrified protests.

 

“I would’ve thought by now your insolence would have quieted somewhat,” she said, her voice cool. “But you’re a stubborn little beast, aren’t you?”

 

Toffee’s swearing was muffled by the webbing, and the rest of it that bound him, no matter how hard he fought, remained tight.

 

“And with a filthy mouth too,” the queen scoffed, watching the boy struggle. “You monsters have no manners at all.”

 

Toffee kept fighting, but eventually he moved slower and slower. Finally he slumped forward, breathing harshly, and unable to keep his eye open any longer, his head feeling too heavy. He was so tired.

 

“Done? Good.” Queen Sun said, and Toffee felt the webbing whip away as quickly as it had come, and he fell forward, only to flinch when he felt the queen roughly catch his arm.

 

After the severely one-sided fight, just the queen’s touch ignited Toffee’s fear and one last burst of adrenaline. He tried to get away from her. The boy clawed and struggled and snapped his jaws at her, trying to bite her again. The Mewman hissed, and wrapped one strong hand tight around his throat, choking him. It was then Toffee finally opened his eye, and realized the queen was no longer transformed; she was wingless and with only two arms again. The webbing remained wrapped around her bitten leg, bandaging it.

 

“Enough, I’m done attacking you,” Sun said, her voice unfeeling. “Understand? I’m taking you to your room now. There’s no point in struggling, you’re in no position to do that.”

 

She squeezed his throat tight one more time, making his eye screw shut and his jaw clench. Then she let go, and Toffee slumped over, coughing and gasping.

 

Sun grabbed his arm again and yanked him forward, and the young monster struggled not to trip over his own feet.

 

Opening his eye again, he saw the queen pull out a pair of scissors. Uncomprehending, he watched her move the scissors down—and then a hole in space began to tear where the scissor blade went.

 

Toffee gaped. Were those—he had heard of them, but they were rare, and he never heard of a monster possessing one, he had never seen real dimensional scissors before—

 

Watching the hole in space rip open, the young monster began to feel sick, remembering the time-space portal Eclipsa had thrown him through recently. When Sun began to pull him through the new hole in space, Toffee resisted, caught up in that terrible memory, an overwhelming fear swallowing him— _no he couldn’t do another portal again not again not again_ —

 

“Idiot beast, do you wish to stay here?” Queen Sun hissed. And then with a roll of her eyes and with seemingly very little effort on her part, she yanked Toffee forward, and it happened so fast, he had no time to give a terrified scream.

 

He was thrown forward, there was a strangle crackle in the air, he saw a flash of swirling light and color—then that was all gone, once he crashed down. Stomach churning uncomfortably, the young monster sat up, and realized the floor was completely different from where he last had been.

 

Trying to calm down, Toffee looked back, and saw Queen Sun on the other side of the portal. “A physician will come for you later. You will have some time to rest—I suggest you take it,” the Mewman said, her voice curt. “I will call for you in due time.” And then she and the portal were gone, and Toffee was left entirely alone.

 

In the first few seconds of that absolute isolation, his current situation sunk in deeper. Toffee doubled over, vomiting up bile and blood, the latter more due to the injuries he had sustained, rather than his mounting fear resulting in the former.

 

Scrubbing the bile and blood off his maw, Toffee looked around. He was in a small, tidy, plain bedroom now. It was connected to an even smaller restroom, its door left open. The bedroom had—well, a bed; and a shelf of drawers. Again, there were no windows. There was another door, closed.

 

Although thinking it was probably futile, Toffee dragged himself to that door, and tried opening it. Locked, just as he thought.

 

Sighing, Toffee rubbed at his black eye, grimacing. If Eclipsa were here, she would tell him to stop that, and then run cool water over a towel and lay it on his black eye, and then she’d—

 

The young monster sobbed, hugging himself, until his claws dug angrily into his upper arms. His jaw clenched, and he wiped away his tears with a frustrated claw. Toffee didn’t want to think about his mother right now, not when she made his heart and head ache. (Not when she had ditched him like this.)

 

Toffee went to the bed he had spotted earlier, coughing on the way, and feeling at least a little grateful he didn’t hack up anymore blood. The young monster crawled under the covers, and finally felt some relief when he stopped moving, stopped fighting, just lay there. Toffee soon fell asleep, too tired to think, to dream.

 

(Too tired to remember Eclipsa and his dead father and the temple and home.)

 

…

 

Queen Sun waved the wand, and part of the half-breed’s blood floated up from the floor, and into an empty vial she had set aside. She bottled it, put it away for later analysis, and left the lab to deal with other issues surrounding Toffee’s sudden arrival.

 

She had to give the actual order to the physician, possibly some explanation, possibly not. She had to make her excuses for keeping the half-breed in some proximity—he had shown some potential in combat, she would just keep him as a conscript. And it wouldn’t entirely be an excuse; she was not lying when she judged his warrior’s potential. Toffee certainly—and aggravatingly enough—showed more fire than Moon. If Sun intended the half-breed as a personal resource, she could certainly use him for more than one purpose, use him as much as possible until the appropriate time.

 

She had to do more research and run more spell simulations. She had to develop further what plan she was brainstorming.

 

The queen needed to ensure that Toffee could be of use to her. That he could give her what she wanted.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So for this fic, went with the idea that the apparent life/magic draining spell Toffee used in the season 2 finale was something used against him by someone else before. Also drew on the visual of those light pink butterflies that had surrounded Toffee losing an arm and then growing it back in the season 1 finale (they were there when he lost the arm, there while he was on the ground maimed, but then gone when he actually regenerated the arm, if I recall correctly). Tbh that’s a detail that makes me suspect Toffee is a mixed race member of the Butterfly family; but it is a kinda vagueish detail I think could be relevant, and hope it ends up tying into something later/will get some explanation later. With school semester done, I hope to update this AU fic more. Thanks for reading! I would appreciate hearing any comments/feedback on this. Also: OMG THAT SEASON 3 PROMO WAS FANTASTIC, I’M SO EXCITED.


	5. vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was written before the latest S3 promo released on June 28, 2017. Again, this is a complete AU.

vi.

 

Moon could go days without seeing her mother, not even glimpses of her. But even the ten-year-old princess could sense a new tension within the castle, and she grew worried about her mother, whom she still hadn’t seen.

No one gave her complete answers, even when she commanded it. She had been given reasons varying from ignorance, to the queen’s orders, which were more reassuring—at least Moon could assume from such details that her mother was well enough to give instructions.

 

It didn't help that Chauncey had to stay with a healer in the stables while he recovered from an injury during this time. He had gotten hurt just before the queen’s latest absence.

 

Moon could still visit her pig-goat, but only for a little while. She had never gone without Chauncey during one of her mother's long absences, not since she had first got to keep him.

 

This already multiplied tension gained a new bustling nervous energy, as Moon saw even more servants and guards and other personnel rushing about, stormy and worried expressions on their faces. Just all of them generally distressed, their dark mood infecting the princess.

 

And so it was with significant delight that Moon stood up to greet her mother when she came to the dining table she currently sat at for breakfast, it was the first time she had seen her in days. But words of relief died in her throat when she saw the monster with the queen.

 

But it was a small one—it looked even a little smaller than her, maybe even a little younger as well. (A monster child?) It seemed completely dwarfed by her mother towering over it, especially with it slouched over and even a little curled into itself, arms crossed, head down and facing the floor.

 

Moon saw that the small monster looked reptilian, with gray scales, and on its head were either dark feathers or dark fur, tied back with ribbon into a ponytail at the base of its neck. It was dressed in simple but formal clothes, deep violet jacket and trousers trimmed with an even darker blue thread, boots etched with basic designs. It looked very uncomfortable in such clothing.

 

Moon watched the queen tightly grip the monster’s thin shoulder, and felt a stab of surreal déjà vu as the creature winced, as if hurt. It stiffened and straightened up in response, raising its face away from the floor, and uncrossing its arms and holding them stiffly at its side. The queen had done similar with her before, and Moon had responded about the same—though Moon knew her mother would grip her shoulder firmly, but not hard enough to make her visibly wince in pain.

 

Now that Moon saw more of the monster’s face, she noticed the bandage on one of its cheeks, the dark circles under its yellow eyes, and how miserable and angry it looked.

 

“Princess Moon,” her mother began formally, placing both her gloved hands on the monster’s thin shoulders, and seemingly ignoring how he flinched and grimaced at her touch. “This monster is Toffee. He is a few years younger than you.”

 

Something marginally hardened in her mother’s face, and one of her eyes twitched ever so slightly. The small monster just started looking very ill, and his eyes darted back to the floor. “For now, he’ll be trained as your personal body guard. He'll join the monster conscripts in their lessons, but will largely remain in the castle, and be educated here as well. That is all you need to know at the moment.”

 

“Yes, my Queen,” Moon said with a nod, reciprocating the formality, and shoving back her curiosity and questions, and sheer shock.

 

Moon had thought—she _knew_ her mother hated monsters. She had always disliked them, but ever since…then, she had despised them even more. She knew it was only with great reluctance and distaste that Queen Sun still conscripted a number of them to serve in the segregated military corps. It was possibly due to sheer paranoia taking a different turn, wanting to exert more control, to keep some close for surveillance. (Her order to allow no more monsters among the domestic staff within the castle still stood.)

But her mother had never assigned a monster as a personal guard to her before. It seemed contradictory. And last Moon checked, she wasn’t exactly allowed to even directly see or interact with any monsters. Now one was to guard her.

 

This Toffee was not even an intimidating monster; he was just a small, runty-looking thing. Even if Mother said he was to be trained, she had also admitted he was _younger_ than her for corn’s sake. What could her mother be thinking? How could this be an acceptable choice for a bodyguard trainee?

 

(Moon shoved aside gossip questioning Queen Sun’s sanity that she had heard over the years after…after what happened.)

 

Her mother nodded. Then she glanced to the monster. “Toffee, her chair.”

 

“What?” The monster asked blankly, confused, looking up at the queen.

 

Moon blinked rapidly, feeling strangely embarrassed by Mother ordering this Toffee around like the low-ranking subservient he was, primarily because he seemed so unprepared. That, and this was the first time she had heard the monster speak, and it had startled her, for he _did_ sound like one of the boy cousins she had that were around her age, he did sound like a child.

 

Her mother favored Toffee with a look Moon knew, and was grateful to not be on the receiving end of—though this one seemed more…severe, than what Moon had experienced before. The queen looked as if she truly hated Toffee. This…was not that surprising, actually. Mother had essentially expressed only loathing for the monsters, Moon could not see that changing any time soon, even with the latest one she was conscripting into a more unusual job.

 

“Pull out your princess’ chair, then take a seat,” Queen Sun said, her voice too silky soft. “You are to have breakfast with her this morning.”

 

The monster scowled, and glanced away. “She’s not my princess—”

 

“Toffee, do not disobey my will,” Queen Sun said in an icy voice, that made Moon shiver and Toffee flinch. Then the monster walked by Moon—and unthinkingly, she crossed her arms protectively when he got close—and grabbed her chair, forcefully yanking it out, an even heavier scowl twisting his face. He yanked out his own chair with similar force and threw himself in it, crossing his arms and glaring at the dining table.

 

“Moon, why haven’t you sat down yet?” Queen Sun said in a curt voice, her eyes fixed on the princess.

 

“Oh! I—” Moon stumbled, realizing she had let seconds pass just standing dumbly there feeling awkward while not following her mother’s wishes immediately. “—I—yes, just taking my seat, Mother,” Moon said, her voice rushed and stumbling even more.

 

She plopped down in her seat, nervously smoothing her skirts down, and ignoring the way Toffee had stopped glaring at the table to stare at her instead.

 

“Sorry, Mother.”

 

“Breakfast should arrive shortly,” Queen Sun said, not acknowledging her daughter’s apology. “Moon, you still have your lessons afterward. For now, Toffee will accompany you. Keep an eye on him.” The queen narrowed her eyes at the monster. “Remember, do not speak, do not interrupt. The tutors are there for only her, not you. Do what you are told. For now, stay with Princess Moon.”

 

Toffee then stopped staring at Moon, a glare twisting its face again as it turned its eyes to the floor, and started viciously swinging its legs back and forth from where it sat.

 

Moon resisted the urge to chew her lip as her mother began to leave. But still the princess asked, “You won’t stay for breakfast?”

 

“I have other things to attend to right now,” was all Queen Sun said, and then she was gone.

 

While Moon sighed and began to pick at her dress while waiting for breakfast to arrive, Toffee stared very fixedly at the exit Queen Sun had just taken. Then, after it seemed satisfied of something, the monster began ripping its boots off.

 

Moon stared at Toffee again. “…Are they uncomfortable? Do they not fit?”

 

“They feel _weird_ ,” Toffee said, stretching its clawed feet once the boots were off. “I don’t know how Mom ever—”

 

Then the monster broke off suddenly, clenching its jaw and baring its fangs, which looked sharp to Moon, and she scooted a little farther away from Toffee in her seat. But the princess frowned; Toffee bared its fangs only at the floor, and that was only because it was clenching its jaw tight. And it looked even more miserable.

 

Then the boy turned his back on her, wiping at his face and releasing a low, frustrated, wet growl. Moon glanced away, looking at the ceiling and admiring the decorations there, trying to give Toffee some space without leaving the room entirely. She was certain it would be rude to gawk at anyone's—even a monster's—show of emotion.

 

“Breakfast is here,” Moon said loudly when she saw the servants start to enter, and she heard Toffee take a breath, clearly minding her warning that his privacy would be further threatened. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him straighten up and wipe a sleeve over his eyes.

 

Moon tried to focus on the food, but her eyes kept sliding to glance to Toffee at her side. It didn't help that she had noticed the servants do the same.

 

The boy's yellow eyes were wide, staring at each breakfast platter as if he had never seen such a thing before, and Moon wondered at his shock. She considered the food; well, it wasn't raw meat, freshly gutted flesh and carrion, and that's what monsters ate, wasn't it? Wasn't that something she heard? Perhaps he was surprised by how different the castle's food looked.

 

But as the princess continued to stare at Toffee, she looked more closely at how clothes hung on him, how thin his shoulders were, how thin all of him was; she saw the slight gauntness in his face.

 

Moon's own eyes widened when she saw Toffee's eyes suddenly dilate.

 

She flinched when the boy practically pounced on the food, tearing at it with his bare claws, ripping with his fangs, made the most unseemly sounds. It was like if Chauncey got to eat right at the dinner table.

 

The servants grimaced and scurried out, leaving the usual bell for Moon to ring if she needed them. For a wild moment the girl felt as if she had been left with the beast in its den.

 

But Moon shook herself; Toffee focused only on the breakfast platters before him, nothing else. The older girl actually began to frown in disgust at the mess the boy was making, crumbs everywhere, wiping his maw with the back of his claw or sleeve, if he didn't just lick them up. When he did that one more time, Moon couldn't take it anymore. Her hand snatched up one of the napkins the servants had left with them.

 

"Don't—use this, they were left here for a reason," she said, quickly holding out the napkin for him. Moon felt something like guilt when the young monster flinched at her sudden motion. When he realized what she was doing, he still kept his distance, still staring warily at her.

 

Moon resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It's a _napkin_. They're used for—"

 

" _I know what a napkin is!_ " Toffee snapped, grabbing up another one, and pointedly ignoring the one Moon had tried to give him.

 

While the boy roughly crumpled up the napkin and dropped it by his plate, Moon frowned. "You certainly don't act like it. Honestly, do all monsters eat like this? Without table manners?"

 

Toffee growled. "That's not it! I just haven't—" Then the boy flushed horribly, clenching his jaw and looking way.

 

"Haven't 'what?'" The princess snapped back, growing impatient.

 

"Just was really hungry, that's all," Toffee mumbled, looking reluctant to admit even that. And Moon awkwardly remembered observing the thinness of his body and how his clothes seemed slightly too large.

 

But the monster ate at a more normal pace; he still ate only with his claws, still ripped and tore and made unseemly noises, but it lacked speed and intensity, and was quieter. It was much calmer, and Moon thought she could believe monsters ate like this. That this was their equivalent of table manners. Toffee even sometimes wiped his mouth with the crumpled up napkin.

 

Moon finally began to eat herself, and tried to concentrate on her food. But still her eyes wandered to her bodyguard-to-be, and finally she realized something.

 

“…You have hair.”

 

Toffee flinched, looking visibly wounded, and lowered the poultry leg he had been about to tear into. Then his face seemed to shut down, irritation and anger clamping down on it. “So?” He snapped at her.

 

Moon folded her hands in her lap, to avoid letting them pick at her skirt. “I—it’s just, I thought it was fur, or feathers on your head. But it’s more like…hair,” she finished lamely.

 

The young monster rolled his eyes, picked the poultry leg back up, and tore harder than was necessary into it. Seeing and hearing that made Moon flinch, bite her lip, and look away.

 

Her eyes fell on Toffee’s discarded boots. Her nose crinkled. “I guess Mother wanted to make you more presentable, but why did she bother with shoes, if none of you monsters wear them at all—?”

 

Toffee swallowed hard, and then growled at her again. “That’s not true! It’s just normal either way—we can choose to wear them or not. I mean, if we can get them…” Toffee trailed off, staring at the table, his eyes distant. Then he shook himself, flushing slightly. “I mean—I mean, what I mean is, I’m just one of those monsters who doesn’t like wearing them, that’s all—”

 

“But your mother did? She was a monster that liked to wear shoes?” Moon asked, recalling what he had almost mentioned before, the implication in his words.

 

Toffee’s eyes widened for a second, startled; and then he seemed to hesitate, before finally quickly nodding his head. “Y-yeah, she was.” His voice sounded small, and a little guilty.

 

Moon stared at him, puzzled by his reaction. But Toffee turned back to his food, even more intent on eating (clearly wanting to drop the subject). Moon shook herself, and tried to do the same.

 

The princess had gotten around to poking her food, when she finally looked at Toffee again. Whatever had troubled him seemed gone. Now he was looking at all the silverware, and regarding it with the same surprise and confusion he had regarded breakfast with when it first arrived.

 

"Why do you have so much...stuff?" The boy finally asked, wiping a napkin haphazardly across his jaw.

 

"Our silverware is highly specialized," Moon said, repeating something a tutor had said once.

 

"But why?"

 

"For ceremonial, historical, diplomatic, and practical purposes in the course of diplomatic work while socializing," Moon again repeated, trying to remember her lessons.

 

Toffee stared at her. "All that with forks, and knives, and spoons?"

 

Moon frowned. "Don't underestimate the value of cutlery."

 

Then the young monster actually giggled at her, and Moon blinked, startled.

 

"You're so serious," Toffee snickered.

 

"I'm the princess," she said, her voice curt. Moon resisted the urge to give her own growl when the boy just ripped off another piece of bread, not responding to her statement and practically ignoring her. He didn't have the rank to get away with ignoring her.

 

But at a loss for what to do—her mother would have known how to handle this—Moon just quietly fumed, and tried to resume eating. The girl's soured mood softened however, when she noticed how Toffee seemed to increasingly enjoy the meal (nothing special in her mind, it was the norm—but it must have been extravagant to a simple monster).

 

Then a servant with a scroll hurried into the room, and Moon had only a second to idly notice him. Her attention soon focused on Toffee afterward, who had startled at the sudden motion from the entrance. The boy shoved against his chair so fast it scraped, and almost spilled a bottle.

 

Moon had reacted at the same time, raising a hand, while the other steadied said bottle. "It's okay, it’s just a servant—he's harmless."

 

The hand Moon had raised then turned to accept the scroll, which the servant quietly placed in her palm. Moon spared only a glance at the servant, enough to notice that the older man regarded Toffee with a certain wariness. She watched him quickly he leave the room, even faster than when he had entered.

 

Looking back at Toffee, the princess felt something like pity stir within her as she watched the young monster slowly calm down, taking his seat again and now eying the scroll in her hand with more curiosity than wariness.

 

Toffee seemed like a jittery creature to her, with nerves worn thin. Seemingly every little unexpected sudden motion was capable of nearly setting him off.

 

Turning away, Moon broke the scroll’s seal and unfurled the parchment open, beginning to read. Eyes scanning the message, her expression switched from something happy to something upset.

 

Moon then neatly rolled the paper back up and pocketed it while still looking distressed. Her hand covered her mouth, then moved away, then back again over her mouth, her thoughts ricocheting around and dragging her body language along with it.

 

Finally coming to a decision, she looked back at Toffee—who now eyed her as if she were crazy.  Moon frowned.

 

"I am going to the stables. You are to come with me. We will then try to come back here and finish breakfast. If the servants clear the table before we return, you will follow me to the tutors. You are not to speak of this detour to anyone else," the princess said, trying her best impression of the queen's authority.

 

Toffee blinked. "Um, if you're already disobeying your mom, you could just—you know— _not_ drag me along—"

 

"Absolutely not, if anyone saw you unsupervised, Mother will definitely know I didn't follow her instructions to the letter!" Moon hissed in a low voice, now worrying about someone overhearing them.

 

The young monster stared at her. "Wow, I just realized how that's completely _NOT_ my problem," Toffee finally said with a snicker and a fanged grin that didn’t reach his yellow eyes, which now held a wild, angry look. (Though Moon grew incensed, a small part of her also thought the boy sounded like someone slightly on the verge of hysterics.) "Lucky for you, I can hide."

 

"You're the _only_ revolting monster in this castle, there's no way you can hide!" Moon snapped.

 

"I'll take my chances!" Toffee snapped back, all rage now. His twisted, bitter, and angry mockery was gone.

 

"You will not, you are going to come with me!"

 

"Maybe I should just tell on you to a servant, how about that?"

 

Moon felt her temper snap, but it bubbled up as an ugly laugh. "Do that, and I'll just say you're a liar and a troublemaker, and who are they going to believe? _You_? Or their princess?"

 

Toffee's eyes widened. "I—"

 

"And then Mother will eventually hear about it, and how do you think she'll react?"

 

The boy grimaced, and Moon ignored the way fear and anger conflicted on his face. The princess knew Toffee could fire back that her chances of getting away will likely vanish then, servants would escort them both to the tutors, the servants would be reluctant to leave her alone with the monster, and Moon doubted she could persuade them or order them to go...

 

"Come on," Moon started with a new tactic, trying to cut off the chance that Toffee might try that line of argument. "You'll get to see more of the castle, get some fresh air. You can pet Chauncey if you like. That's who I want to see in the stables; he's my pet."

 

The monster still looked in turmoil, but he also started to seem a little more willing, and Moon finally appreciated the fact that he was younger than her, and how everything suggested he had no experience with castle life.

 

"It'll be far more interesting than my tutors, you'll want to avoid them for as long as you can today," Moon continued her attempt at persuasion. "With the tutors, you'll definitely have to be quiet, like Mother ordered; she'll have shared the command with them, and they're strict followers—but you can talk on our detour, and won't get in trouble for it, as long as the wrong people don't overhear. We don't want anyone to know we're taking a detour. And when we meet Chauncey's healer, she won't know you're not supposed to talk."

 

Maybe that was not the best strategy to use, because Toffee looked more mutinous. But still, he looked clearly tempted. A storm of emotions continued to cross his face, until he finally grabbed one more chunk of bread and stood up from the table. "Fine, I'll go with you," he grumbled, still looking bitter, but complying.

 

Moon almost thought he would change his mind when she ordered him to put his boots back on before they left, but though he shot her a furious glare, he still obeyed, and went with her.

 

…                                       

 

_(Toffee’s frenzied, panicked thoughts had been filled with temptation, yes; and anger too, uncertainty, anxiety, **fear** —he did not want to deal with the Queen’s possible anger right now, not after what she had done…_

 

_So he had caved to the princess’ demands. Though she had successfully bulled him into doing what she wanted, she still intimidated far less than her mother, and had not physically attacked him yet.)_

 

...

 

Moon had to admit she had not exactly followed through on her offer, leading Toffee quickly to the upper tier stables and not really taking the time to show him any possible sights, but it wasn't like she had actually literally promised him anything. Besides, the younger monster seemed both engaged with and apprehensive over the walk. He closely watched most everything they passed, focusing on doors and windows and other hallways. When it came to passing royal guards and knights, nobles and servants and other personnel, Toffee grew more anxious, and clearly wanted to move more quickly then, even if he never voiced that desire out loud.

 

When Moon thought Toffee was actually _frightened_ of Mewmans in general, her first instinct was to feel incredulity. He was a monster; the Mewmans should be frightened of _him_ , not the other way around. But when she glanced at him again, and saw the way he shot the latest knight a nervous look, and walked faster and closer by her side, Moon felt—well, she was reminded that Toffee was shorter than her, and all of the other Mewmans they had passed were adults and taller than her, thus they dwarfed Toffee as well. He was still little; he hadn’t grown into a tall and intimidating monster yet. It wasn’t entirely nonsense anymore that the adult Mewmans should scare him.

 

When they reached the stables, Moon noticed Toffee relax a little, and grow more interested in the greater presence of animals. The only Mewman around right now was Moon herself (and she was only a little taller than Toffee).

 

"Come on, keep up," an impatient Moon called back, when Toffee lingered to get a closer look at the napping manticore mounts in their stalls.

 

"Ms. Turnleaf, I got your message," Moon said once she spotted the older woman. The girl approached her, with Toffee following behind.

 

"Welcome Princess—" The healer paused when she saw Toffee, and the monster stopped curiously looking around. He locked eyes with the older woman, then fidgeted and looked at the stone floor.

 

Moon waved a hand to him. "This is Toffee; the queen intends to have him trained as my bodyguard."

 

When Toffee didn't make a move—except for an anxious flick of his tail—Moon tried to whisper out of the corner of her mouth. Mother would rebuke him publicly, but she thought to try to quietly correct him.

 

"Bow to her." Moon would have to figure out the exact protocol with Toffee’s new rank, but for now she figured a young monster should bow to an adult Mewman.

 

"What?" Toffee asked, not whispering and looking up at her. He seemed far less anxious at least, and just more confused. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you, you were just—"

 

Moon rolled her eyes, giving up. "Bow to her! Haven't you been taught that?"

 

The young monster actually flinched, and instead of turning mutinous and snapping back at Moon, he immediately tried to comply. He shot the healer a shy, flustered look, and gave her a small quick bow. Ms. Turnleaf still warily watched Toffee.

 

"Your note said I could probably take Chauncey back?" Moon said, not wanting to be sidetracked any longer.

 

The healer shook herself, and gave Moon a strained smile. "Yes, of course. Please, come see him."

 

Ms. Turnleaf took Moon—with Toffee trailing behind—to the pen she had grown accustomed to visiting for Chauncey. Moon instinctively began to pull up her skirts slightly to run when she heard the pig-goat already happily squeal for her, he knew she was coming. But Moon remembered herself and exercised restraint, and waited for Ms. Turnleaf to open the pen door for her.

 

Then Moon rushed in and bent before Chauncey, drawing him close and petting him, and enjoying the way he licked her chin.

 

(The princess didn't glance back and notice the healer had entered after her, and shut the door in Toffee's face when he tried to follow. She did not hear the healer tell Toffee in a low voice to not lay a claw on any of the animals, that the manticores were likely to kill him anyway if he tried to hunt them; and even if he did somehow manage to damage any of the animals, the queen would punish him, she would not tolerate injury to her living property. Moon did not see Toffee sit down outside the pen, hug his knees close, curl his tail around his ankles, and begin to silently wait, and try to make himself as small as possible while doing so. Moon had no idea that the main thought racing through Toffee’s head then was how much he wanted to be home right now.)

 

Chauncey pulled on one of her braids, and Moon laughed. "Ah, I missed you too boy!" She kissed his forehead. "How's your leg doing?" Moon glanced to his hind leg, still wrapped up.

 

"He can go with you, he's improved enough for that, but still keep an eye on him. Bring him back for check-ups," Ms. Turnleaf said, walking up behind the princess. "He'll still have to mind his leg, but it's healing nicely."

 

"Thank you so much," Moon said, looking back up at the older woman while she had her arms wrapped around Chauncey's neck, the pig-goat calmly nibbling on one of her braids.

 

Moon idly remembered her new companion. Then she grew a little puzzled. It was a bit odd, she thought; Moon had assumed Toffee would have been unbearably curious about Chauncey too, he had seemed so annoyingly entranced with the manticore mounts. (Maybe he had just wandered back to watch them more). "Toffee—"

 

"Present," came the young monster's subdued reply, drifting faintly from outside the pen.

 

Moon stared at the closed pen door, her brow furrowing. "What are you doing out there? Why didn't you come in with m—?"

 

Moon then noticed Ms. Turnleaf looking away, as if trying to avoid her notice, and suddenly the princess felt very awkward.

 

"...Well, never mind that," Moon said, getting up and walking back to the pen door, one hand held toward Chauncey, but the pig-goat needed little to make him follow her with a pleased bleat. "Let me introduce you to Chauncey."

 

The second the princess started opening the door, Chauncey helped her push it open, and carefully trotted out with his bandaged leg. The pig-goat found Toffee sitting curled up on the patch of floor next to the door, and when Moon saw him, she felt that strange pity stir up again. And it struck Moon that he had not called her attention to him, to what she had promised; whatever had passed between him and the healer, it had driven him to stay quiet and wait. Moon had very nearly forgotten him…

 

Chauncey immediately drew close to Toffee, beginning to sniff at him. Moon smiled.

 

"Toffee, this is my pet pig-goat, Chauncey," Moon said with a growing grin, watching Chauncey begin to lick Toffee, making the boy giggle and almost instantaneously brighten his countenance. "Chauncey, this is Toffee."

 

Her grin widened and her eyes softened when she saw the pig-goat start climbing on top of Toffee, making the boy fall back with a delighted yelp. Toffee wrapped his arms around Chauncey for a moment, then let go, and sat up. He ran a small claw gently through the pig-goat's fur.

 

"He's so soft," the young monster practically cooed, and he giggled again when the pig-goat began to nibble on the end of his sleeve.

 

"Oh Chauncey, you really shouldn't—" Moon said, reaching out a hand to stop her pet. Chewing on her hair was one thing, but—well actually, in light of his recovery, Moon would have let Chauncey get away with chewing on her clothes if he had chosen to, she would have let it slide. But it was another thing to let him possibly start the habit with someone new.

 

"Ah, he's okay Moon," Toffee cut her off, scratching Chauncey behind his ears. "Pig-goat's gotta eat, right?" The boy said, addressing Chauncey now. He smiled even more when the pig-goat seemed to give a bleat of agreement.

 

Moon opened her mouth, about to protest. But then she noticed the healer again watching Toffee closely with a wary look, one even more intense than the last.

 

"Oh, Ms. Turnleaf, before I forget, I wanted to ask if there was any medicine I should give Chauncey?" Moon asked, walking in front of the older woman (and better blocking Toffee and Chauncey from view). "Like, if you had anything for him, or just some kind of treatment I should do with him—like, is there anything else I need to do for him, while he's recovering with me?"

 

Ms. Turnleaf shook herself. "Actually, yes, there's—"

 

Moon listened to the healer's instructions, and asked her more questions, while Toffee and Chauncey played in peace.

 

...

 

"You're just gonna leave him in your room?" Toffee asked, holding the bag of recovery herbs Ms. Turnleaf had given Moon for Chauncey's sake.

 

"I've done that before," Moon explained while she now held Chauncey, after making Toffee hold the medicine. The princess had wanted to give her pet’s bandaged leg a break (and she just wanted to hold him).

 

"And he had enough room?"

 

"Of course," Moon said. "My si—I mean, my room was expanded so that Chauncey could stay with me and still be comfortable."

 

Toffee still looked confused, and Moon was just grateful that it didn’t seem like he had noticed her near slip-up. The princess said, "You'll see what I mean when we get there. And then we'll go back and try to finish breakfast. Or if the table's clear, we'll go to the tutors—"

 

"They'll be happy to know you planned to come to their lessons eventually,"

 

Queen Sun said as Moon and Toffee walked past her, and both froze. Only Chauncey made a sound, bleating over Moon's shoulder.

 

The princess was the first to move, whirling back around and facing the queen. "Mother! I was just—"

 

"Put your pet down, dear, he had his leg broken, he didn't lose one," the queen coolly said.

 

Moon gently lowered Chauncey back to the ground. He gave one last loud bleat, fondly butted his head against her leg, then trotted to Toffee and began nibbling on his trousers. Toffee had shoved the bag of herbs behind his back, and fixed his eyes on the floor.

 

"Mother," Moon tried again. "It's just—I was just—I didn't expect to see you so soon—"

 

"Oh, I was just on the way to one of those things that demand far greater attention from me—and then you crossed my path. Decidedly where you should not be."

 

Moon deflated. "I asked Ms. Turnleaf to let me know when Chauncey was well enough for me to take him back, and she was able to do that this morning—"

 

"And of course you had to go get him right then, rather than wait until after your lessons," Queen Sun said, with a cold grin and unsmiling eyes.

 

"I...I just wanted—I thought it would only take a little bit of time," Moon said, hands now twisting one of her braids. "Just cause a possible small delay...it was only going to be a little detour..."

 

"Beast, what do you have behind your back?" The queen said, eyes snapping to Toffee. The boy flinched and he curled into himself more, trying to shrink. Chauncey stretched up on his hind legs, leaning against Toffee, and giving a plaintive bleat. (For one wild second, Moon fretted over his bandaged hind leg bearing that much support.)

 

"Mother, I made Toffee hold the medicine Ms. Turnleaf gave me for Chauncey," Moon said, stepping in front of the young monster.

 

The queen seemed to listen. Then she said, "Give the medicine back to Princess Moon. She will take that and her pet to her room, then go straight to her lessons."

 

The girl stared. "And Toffee—you said he would accompany me to—"

 

"Seeing as you can’t supervise one monster yet, he'll just come with me now,” Queen Sun said. “He can wait outside the war room with the guards while I’m in a meeting."

 

"But," Moon said, glancing back at Toffee. He had raised his head back up, held the bag of herbs in front of him again, and now looked more apprehensive. "But that’s—"

 

" _Don't_ question me," her mother cut in, and Moon shut her mouth.

 

The princess apologized. Toffee gave her the medicine. Moon took that and Chauncey to her room. And the queen took Toffee.

 

...

 

Lessons went on into the evening, and as soon as they were over, Moon asked around, trying to identify _which_ war room the queen was in. Butterfly castle in fact had several of those.

 

Once she had her answer, she found Toffee lying curled up on the floor, next to one of the guards flanked on either side of the entrance to the queen’s meeting. The young monster was fast asleep.

 

Moon stared at him, thinking he looked even smaller. She remembered the dark circles she had seen under his eyes, and wondered when he last slept.

 

"I will take him to his room," Moon said, trying to sound authoritative and like she actually knew Toffee had a room. The plan was to literally just let him sleep in her room for now, if this worked, if her lie wasn’t detected.

 

"I'm sorry Princess,” one of the guards spoke up. “But your mother said he had to wait here until she was done."

 

"But her meetings can go long!" Moon protested. "Even all night! He _can't_ sleep in the hallway here."

 

"I'm sure it don't mind,” said the other guard. “It's a monster after all, their kind are _used_ to sleeping out in the woods. He's already a step up here, I reckon."

 

Moon saw Toffee shift and curl up tighter, and she frowned.

 

At first Moon petulantly thought to just grab one of the nearby decorative rugs, but then thought Toffee would end up getting blamed for that more than her. So she left looking for some servants, and ordered them to bring her blankets and pillows without explaining why. They complied without question, and she walked back with her bundle to Toffee.

 

Moon knelt down on the floor, carefully laying out the blankets and pillows. Then she tried to even more carefully move the monster into the makeshift bed, trying not to wake him. When he remained asleep, again Moon thought he must be very tired. Toffee just curled up into the blankets, sinking half his face into a pillow.

 

"Um, Princess," a guard said. "It's getting late, your curfew..."

 

"Tell the queen I left the blankets and pillows for Toffee," Moon said curtly, standing back up.

 

"Yes Princess."

 

Moon nodded to them, and walked back to her room. There, she gave Chauncey food and medicine, played with him a little, watched him curl up in his own bed, and finally went to sleep herself.

 

...

 

Queen Sun stepped out of the war room, her thoughts a million miles away.

Her eyes darted to the half-breed, and narrowed at the blankets and pillows he was sprawled on. Her lip curled in disgust when she saw that he was drooling.

 

"Princess Moon asked that we inform you she was the one who gave the monster the blankets and the pillows," said a guard.

 

"Wake him," the queen ordered, not taking her eyes off of Toffee, or showing any sign she had heard the guard.

 

The other guard complied, stomping one metal boot on the monster's tail.

 

Toffee bolted up with a pained scream, and scrambled backwards in a confused and terrified panic, and when he hit the wall, it only sent him into more of a frenzy.

 

"Grab him, hold him still, wait for him to get a grip," the queen said impassively. Toffee snapped his jaws at a guard when he got too close, but did not notice the other one, who wrapped both hands around his arms and easily lifted him up.

 

Toffee squirmed and uselessly kicked his feet, growling and shouting in the guard's hands, until he subsided into heaving gasps and sniffling. He now hung limply in the guard's grip, like a rag doll.

 

…

 

"Toffee," Queen Sun said, and the boy's eyes reluctantly and grudgingly looked up with a tired glare. That was the first clear thing he had heard since being woken up so harshly. "Do you remember where you are now?"

 

The young monster felt his throat constrict and his eyes sting. He nodded his head, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

"Good." The queen then addressed the guard again. "You can put him down now."

 

The guard complied, lowering the monster to his feet, on top of a blanket. Toffee stared at it, and at the other blankets, and the pillows. He didn't remember those being there when he fell asleep.

 

"Princess Moon left you with blankets and pillows," Queen Sun explained, and Toffee's head snapped up to gape at her, eyes wide. "Pick them up; I'm taking you to your new quarters now. You'll stay there until I call for you. And you'll return the blankets and pillows to the princess later with your gratitude."

 

Toffee grabbed them and tried to keep up with the queen, yawning as he followed her.

 

After he was left alone in his quarters, Toffee didn’t bother with exploring the new room. He plopped into bed, and fell asleep again, his exhaustion overruling the ache in his tail, and the new warmth he had for Princess Moon.

 

(Maybe she was more like Eclipsa, despite the generations separating them.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Comments/feedback are always appreciated. Again, this is an AU, and this part was written before the latest S3 promo. Also, ALL THE S3 PROMOS HAVE ME PUMPED FOR THE TV MOVIE. CAN’T WAIT.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you hollow-kitsune for the specific wording of the line “He looks like a Toffee!” and the theory about Toffee and Eclipsa, linked here:
> 
> http://hollow-kitsune.tumblr.com/post/157377088132/theory-time
> 
> I have seen similar theories about Toffee and Eclipsa before, but this one put down some ideas I hadn't seen elsewhere before (but have personally considered in private).
> 
> Drew from hug-bees, storyboard revisionist on SVtFoE, saying on tumblr that Toffee did have hair.


End file.
